


Bloodstone

by voilawriter



Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: A happy ending & 2 epilogues!, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bonnie Bennett-centric, Canon-Typical Violence, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, F/M, Original Bennett Characters, Period-Typical Racism, Post-Season/Series 01, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:07:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 27
Words: 123,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25079602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voilawriter/pseuds/voilawriter
Summary: A post-S1 AU. Guilt-ridden and in shock over causing Caroline's accident, without any magical way to heal her friend, Bonnie turns to magic for another solution. She finds it: time travel. But why jump back one night, when she could go back a couple of months and save everyone-including her Grams? But magic is never simple, and Bonnie finds herself on the Salvatore plantation in 1864. As she struggles to find her way home, she must rely on the kindness (or at least the curiosity) of Katherine Pierce and the human Salvatore brothers to protect her in a very different Mystic Falls.
Relationships: Bonnie Bennett & Emily Bennett, Bonnie Bennett & Katherine Pierce, Bonnie Bennett/Damon Salvatore, Past Elijah Mikaelson/Katherine Pierce, minor Katherine Pierce/Lucy Bennett/Mason Lockwood
Comments: 286
Kudos: 297





	1. before the fall

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Magyar available: [Bíborkő](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28131360) by [Ondieva86](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ondieva86/pseuds/Ondieva86), [voilawriter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/voilawriter/pseuds/voilawriter)



> This takes place between Season 1 and Season 2. Yes, I'm aware that the gap between those 2 seasons is about half an hour on the show. This fic stretches it to a single night. So it picks up after Tyler's car crash (due to Bonnie not de-spelling the Gilbert device) and Caroline's hospitalization, but Elena and Damon haven't run into each other at the hospital yet, though Damon has already kissed Katherine thinking she was Elena. 
> 
> This story is a rewrite of a fic I started 10 years ago and left unfinished. That fic (unfinished, full of typos, and written in first person) can be found on FF.net [here](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/6361361/1/Bloodstone-the-Original).
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

_I wish I were a girl again, half savage and hardy, and free;  
_ _and laughing at injuries, not maddening under them!  
_ _Why am I so changed?  
_ _—Emily Bronte_

Bonnie Bennett met Damon Salvatore when she was five years old. The man was well over a hundred, and, of course, was not really a man at all. Not that Bonnie knew this. The speed at which he swept her into his arms was just the normal superior power of an adult, and something to be grateful for, not suspicious of. The smile he flashed her was beautiful, and didn't include any unnaturally long teeth.

The dog, more perceptive than she, let out a whimper at the sight of those same teeth. But in this moment, one Bonnie at seventeen could barely remember, this whimper was also something to be grateful for. The dark dressed man had saved her from the nasty dog, and in the years after that intervention Neela had been sweet-tempered and docile with Bonnie.

The wiser, if only slightly, seventeen year old Bonnie Bennett shivered as her memory of that day came back to her in vivid color. The weight of his gaze as he had stared into the dog's eyes, the command in his voice. At the time, Bonnie had thought it like her father's. An air of effortless authority found in those older than her.

Now, she knows the authority was grounded in the supernatural. Damon Salvatore had compelled her neighbor's dog to be nice to her. Even when Neela's snout grew grey and her eyes clouded she never snapped at Bonnie. It had amazed the other kids on her street, and brought her comfort. She remembered how she had buried her face in the soft fur at Neela's neck to cry over her recent realization; that her mother was not coming home, that her father was never really going to be her dad again.

But Neela hadn't liked her, or loved her, as she had thought. No, her sweetness was forced upon her, bought with magic, tainted by vampirism. Just like everything else in Bonnie's life, and everything else in Mystic Falls.

Bonnie knew that magic and blood ran deep in Mystic Falls, threaded through the foundations as surely as cotton and slavery, and hidden just as shoddily. But it still felt easier to pin her current misery on the most recent embodiments of the supernatural. And it wasn't entirely wrong either.

If it wasn't for Damon, Bonnie probably would have been permanently maimed by Neela. But if it wasn't for Damon, Vicki would still be alive to make bad choices and cause worry lines on Matt's forehead. Elena could actually be recovering after the accident, instead of pushing it aside to deal with romantic and murder drama. Caroline wouldn't have dark circles under her eyes, and an obsessive need to check her watch to ensure she hadn't lost time. Caroline wouldn't have been in that car.

Grams would still be alive. She would still be here, to play weird board games with, to scandalize her students with her stories from the 1960s, to drink sherry at 11 in the morning, to raise a single eyebrow at Bonnie's outfit of the day. She would still be there to confide in, to hug, to love and be loved in return, unconditionally.

And Bonnie would still be a teenage girl with normal worries. She would be making decisions about prom decorations. She wouldn't be dooming vampires to life or death, and dealing with the consequences of both.

Every movie to ever deal with time travel ended with the lesson that it was a bad idea. But, Bonnie reasoned, those movies were based on fake science and written by guys who couldn't actually travel in time. It was easy to label something you thought impossible as morally wrong.

Bonnie wasn't confident in her powers, but she was confident in her ancestors. Grams has said Emily was the most powerful witch in generations, and she had tried to warn her about the Salvatores. With the help of Emily's Grimoire, Bonnie figured she could do this. She'd cried in the waiting room at the hospital for hours, only to be told Caroline's life still hung in the balance. The spellbook hadn't contained anything to heal Caroline, but it had held this. She could go back to the perfect moment, and change everything.

Bonnie wasn't exactly sure of her plan on how to do that yet. Maybe she would just hand over the crystal to Damon without a fight, or she could warn Stefan about his brother and the tomb. She knew Damon wouldn't believe her if she told him Katherine wasn't in the crypt. But once she had the means, she could figure out her strategy. She would kill Damon before she allowed him to ruin her life again.

The spell looked simple, shockingly simple. It was almost as simple as a locator spell. It required far less power and fewer incantations than opening the tomb, which was a good thing as Bonnie was working alone.

If the last few months had taught Bonnie anything, it was that magic always had a catch. The pure elation she had felt when she first explored her powers, the floating feathers and small flames, was quickly balanced by her fear. Fear of discovery, and losing her own sanity. And then, just as she began to comprehend that she might be able to use her powers- to do some good for her town, her friends, and herself—

Well, those plans were quickly put aside to deal with the blood thirsty, manipulative, distractingly hot vampires in town. And the ghost of her ancestor. And murderous town councils. Bonnie's pretty sure it's only a matter of time before something else shows up to top the problems she's faced this week. She didn't know what would be next. A Satanic cult? A wendigo? The original vampire? Who knew? She'd started watching Supernatural and Buffy to hedge her bets and be prepared.

Elena was dating a vampire (or two) and she apparently looks just like their vampire ex-girlfriend. Jeremy wanted to become a vampire, or maybe a vampire hunter to follow a weird family legacy. Even Mr. Saltzman, the random new history teacher, was caught up in the vampire underworld. And Tyler, who knew what he was, to have been affected by the Device.

Bonnie should add herself to that list. Bonnie is a witch. But she wanted out. She wanted to be Matt. Bonnie wanted complete ignorance, and therefore, complete bliss. She'll fix what she can in the moment, and then set herself up for life outside the drama. She'll actually have time to get that coffee with Tiki, to make up her geometry test, and God help her, she will apply for college.

But back to the catch. There, at the bottom of the page, was a small note.

_I have hidden the bloodstone in the Salvatore home, the one place I know both Katherine and Damon have no desire to go back to, who knows what either would do with this power. The youngest brother will hold the estate, and the stone will remain hidden. He has agreed to hide the stone, in plain sight, set into the fireplace. The hearth is built into the foundation of the home, and it will remain standing, even if the manor house burns down around it._

She'd found the note weeks ago, when Elena first asked her to look into possible Gilbert enchantments. Emily loved her gemstones. Bonnie had sighed but gamely trekked out to the ruins of the Salvatore mansion.

* * *

It hadn't been there of course. Not that Bonnie should really have been expecting it to be. The whole place had fallen apart, and the forest had taken over. Bonnie was walking through the trees with Emily's Grimoire held open in front of her, flat across her open palms. She had hoped it would somehow point her towards the stone she needed, like a magic compass instead of an old book.

She was pretty out of her depth. If only Grams—

But she was on her own, and there was no fireplace. The ruins of a few walls still stood knee high, but that was all that was left of Giuseppe Salvatore's manor and plantation. Other than his two immortal sons of course. No fireplace equaled no bloodstone. And no bloodstone meant no magic to trace which meant Bonnie had hit yet another dead end. How was she supposed to learn magic when all she had to study was a century old book? Bonnie kicked a wall.

"What are you doing here Bonnie?"

The witch whirled around, book now clutched to her chest. Luckily, it was the younger, vegetarian brother.

"Stefan! Oh gosh you scared me. Why does it seem like we're always meeting like this?"

The furrow in Stefan's brow disappeared, and he huffed out something close to a laugh, before the furrow was back and his thoughts turned suspicious again.

"Why are you here Bonnie? You must know what this place is, or—" He spread his arms as if to encompass the whole skeleton of his childhood home, "what it used to be at least. You don't just stumble over all of this accidentally. Is there something you need?"

For a moment Bonnie considered lying. Telling him nothing, or a complete fabrication. That Founder's day was coming up and she wanted to get a feel for life back then, or maybe, slightly more believably, she wanted to see where her new friend (and new enemy) had spent their youth over a hundred years ago.

But Stefan's face, so serious, managed to be kind at the same time. How did he manage that?

"What happened to the fireplace, the main fireplace?" Bonnie asked.

For a minute confusion ruled is face, but his expression soon smoothed. He might have been questioning Bonnie's sanity, but he would be circumspect about it.

"When they built the boarding house, they moved the fireplace. It didn't need to be refurbished or anything. It was almost as if it had a spell of preservation on it." He said the last part slowly, like he had just realized that it was very possible that the fireplace had been under such a spell. Bonnie avoided his eyes, nodding as she stared into the trees. She wasn't sure why she was trying to play it off as if it didn't matter to her. He had just caught her in the woods searching for his old fireplace. Obviously, it mattered.

"Do you need to see it for something?"

The impulse to lie climbed up Bonnie's throat again. It sat at the back of her mouth, pushing. Perhaps a part of her brain was trying to warn her, telling her not to trust a vampire. Or maybe it was an attempt to sabotage her, to stop her from studying this particular spell. Bonnie brushed the feeling aside. She nodded once, definitively.

"Yeah, Emily mentions it." She held up the grimoire with one hand, like it is a casual thing. Her wrist flopped under the weight, and Bonnie tucked the heavy book close to her body once more. "Umm, yeah, anyway...it'd be great if I could check it out."

Stefan smiled and motioned for her to follow him, treating this like a normal request. The two walked through the woods, towards Bonnie's parked car, in silence.

It wasn't a comfortable silence, and it lasted the walk to the car, and then through the car ride, and up to the house. The silence prickled, or at least it prickled Bonnie. Neither spoke up, perhaps fearing words would draw attention to the strangeness of the situation, or just the strangeness of them being alone together. Were they really friends outside of Elena and desperate missions to save the town?

"I should be quick. And I'll try not to break anything." Bonnie said wryly. She'd promised Elena she would try to be better, and she should start treating Stefan as a friend. Stefan nodded, smiling, as if he were privy to her internal decision. He also did not bother to ask why she wanted to see the fireplace, or what Emily had written about.

The bloodstone lay directly in the middle of the mantlepiece. Set into the carved scrollwork of the stone, it looked as if it was meant to be there. Smooth, oval, and larger than Bonnie's clenched fist, it arrested Bonnie on sight. The surface was a deep green, but thick veins of red shot through it's surface.

Bloodstones are not often described as beautiful. They don't sparkle like sapphire, or cut like diamond. But, Bonnie could feel the pulse of power around this particular stone, a steady and grounding presence. The green of nature, the red of life. With effort, she tore her gaze from its solidity. Any doubt she'd held that this could be the stone Emily worked with had fled. The stone had crushed any uncertainty.

Stefan was watching her.

Bonnie smiled, breathing in deeply to slow the rapid heartbeat she was sure he could hear.

"Stefan, was that stone always in the center like that?"

He looked at the fireplace curiously, before reaching out to brush his fingertips along the bloodstone. Bonnie's breath caught. She didn't want him to touch it.

"No—" He let out a long sigh. Maybe, now that his attention was drawn to it, the stone affected him as it had her. Or maybe remembering his human life, so long ago, was more to blame. His voice grew soft, a murmur. "It used to be amber. A piece of amber just the same size. My brother would stare at it for hours"

"Damon?" Bonnie asked incredulously. The violent vampire didn't seem one for contemplation. Stefan shook his head in one quick motion, turning back towards Bonnie.

"No, our younger brother. Alessandro. He was only a child when I—when we—" Stefan paused for a moment, trying to land on the right word, "left. I never noticed the change. I guess later Salvatores switched it. It's a shame though, Alessandro loved that amber."

Bonnie knew that it must have been Alessandro himself who switched out the stones, though she wasn't sure what Emily had told him to get him to agree.

"Stefan could I take the bloodstone? You could replace it- find amber to take its place. It will be more like how you remember it." Bonnie realized that this may not be an effective argument for Stefan. "Besides, it was Emily's. So technically it's mine anyway." Not exactly true, and Bonnie now sounded like a child, grasping for toys. Still, they must all sound like children to him sometimes.

He didn't look upset by her demand, or even confused. His face was hard to interpret. After all, Bonnie didn't know him very well. She held her breath, waiting for an answer.

"Sure, why not? Here let me help." A fraction of a second after his careless shrug, his arm was straining against the stone.

"It's not coming out. I don't know what you want me to do Bonnie, it is stuck in there with more than just glue." He gave it one more go, pulling with all of his vampire strength…and still nothing. How did Emily perform so many spells? Bonnie was exhausted just by the thought of her ancestor's frequent spellcasting.

"So, Bambi and Thumper aren't making you the strongest guy around, no need to take it out on the furniture, Stefan. I'm sure the witch won't mind that you're not up to my standards." Damon threw Bonnie a wink as he paused in the open archway, before sauntering over to slap his brother on the back. The witch sneered in disgust and Stefan rolled his eyes.

"Why don't you give it a go then, oh mighty Damon, I'm sure soccer moms have been much more strengthening than Peter Cottontail." Damon responded to his brother's snark with a shrug and reached towards the bloodstone. He looked completely at ease as he tried to pull it out, until it proved just as stubborn under his hand. He tried harder. Just like Stefan, he pulled with all his strength, and gained nothing.

"Why don't you guys let me try?"

Both of the Salvatores turned to look at her with disbelief written all over their faces.

"We," Damon said motioning to Stefan and himself while he spoke in the slow voice you use with children, "are vampires. We have super strength. You don't." In a moment of complete immaturity, Bonnie stuck out her tongue at him, and pushed her way between the vampires. Bonnie looked at the stone, deciding how to place her hand to get some kind of grip on its smooth surface.

At the lightest brush of her fingers, the stone fell from its setting. Bonnie hadn't been expecting this, and scrambled to catch the bloodstone, fumbling with it like a hot potato. Damon snatched it from the between her flailing hands with ease. He considered the stone, the now empty recess in the mantlepiece, and the shocked face of the teenage witch. His brother's face was inscrutable, and none offered an explanation.

Damon placed the stone in Bonnie's hand.

"I totally loosened it for you." He said. Bonnie huffed, and Damon laughed. He headed towards the drink cart, heedless of the sun's high position over Virginia. He glanced towards Stefan, a wordless offer, and his brother, rather uncharacteristically in Bonnie's mind nodded in acceptance.

Damon poured them both doubles, and spoke without turning around.

"You better run along witchy, you've got magic to make and we have scotch to drink."

Bonnie left without a word, eager to take the out.

* * *

Bonnie shuddered thinking about the Salvatore brothers helping her now. It wasn't exactly Stefan's fault that she was having an existential crisis over saving him and Damon from the fire, but the elder Salvatore brother set her teeth on edge. She'd saved him because of Elena, and because of the growing guilt in her stomach over her betrayal. She'd held it as a seed in her stomach for days, but it had flourished as Damon thanked her sincerely at the parade. Bonnie shook those thoughts away. That was why she was doing this, to get away from it all.

Bonnie had decided to perform the spell in the woods. Not too far from the Salvatore ruins, but nowhere near any drinking spot favored by her classmates. She carved a circle around her with a stick, and placed representations of each of the four elements around where she stood, bloodstone held aloft, in the center.

She'd considered the graveyard, a place with more power, and closer to her car, before remembering how much Elena used to hang out there. She didn't want to run into a grieving Elena from a few months back, she needed to just get in, get out, and live happily without ever knowing the memories she was losing and lives she was saving.

Emily had warned that the spell wasn't exact, and Bonnie figured packing a bag with a few days of clothes wouldn't be a bad idea. Plus, she needed something with her to make past-Bonnie trust her immediately. To know that they were one in the same person, and following her advice was critical.

She'd chosen a necklace that her grandfather had given her when she was a little girl, before he'd passed. It had an empty setting at the end of a long chain. The beaten metal was beautiful even without a stone, but Grams had assured her that she would know the right gem for it when it found her. When it found her, not the other way around. How very Harry Potter of Grams.

The necklace was one of a kind, made by her grandfather himself before she was born, so Bonnie knew that seeing it, and its inscription, would make her past self believe her words. She stowed it in her bag, next to her jeans and emergency stash of power bars.

Bonnie closed her eyes, feeling in her bones the sunrise beginning, the first rays of light reaching over the Virginian mountains. She closed her eyes, shoving aside her worry for Caroline, her guilt over the car crash, her loneliness without Grams, and began to recite the spell she'd memorized. She only tripped over the strange language once, and with each repetition her words gained strength, conviction. She was meant to do this, she was meant to go back.

And then it all went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from: pride comes before the fall


	2. the more things change

_What has a man to do with fear?  
Chance rules our lives, and the future is all unknown.  
Best live as we may, from day to day.  
_ _—Sophocles_

Bonnie woke up because someone was shaking her, hard. Abruptly she became aware of loud voices surrounding her. The loudest came from directly above her and was attached to the arm shaking her. It also topped the list of voices she did not want to hear.

Why was Damon Salvatore, of all people, the one who found her? She thought she would have at least had managed to go back far enough that he wouldn't be in Mystic Falls yet.

"Come on, wake up!" This was accompanied by a particularly vigorous shake. Bonnie tried to rouse herself enough to swat him away, but both of her arms refused to follow her brain's instructions.

If Damon were here, it meant the spell probably hadn't worked at all. He and Stefan had somehow followed her into the woods. Had they known what she was trying to do? Or were they here for revenge because she didn't de-spell the Gilbert Device?

"Do you think she's a runaway?" And there was Stefan. Bonnie recognized his voice, though his tone sounded strange, and his words made no sense.

"There haven't been any notices up or anything about one who looks like this. And look, she's hasn't got a mark on her. No dirt and certainly no scars."

"Well she's pretty enough not to have any scars, probably kept in the house."

"You think anyone would let her into the house wearing this?"

"Maybe she stole the pants off a field hand. Probably would let her move faster than in skirts. Maybe it's not her first attempt?"

A new voice cut in, light and feminine. Elena?

"No, she has no scars, it would have to be her first go at it." How long had Bonnie been unconscious? They'd managed to get Elena here. It registered with Bonnie that she had just heard Stefan call her pretty. It hadn't sounded like a compliment.

"Come on wake up." With this last entreaty from Damon, Bonnie managed to make her mouth cooperate, even if her arms would not.

"Leave me alone Damon, I can get up."

Damon immediately jumped back, as if he had been burned. The correct reaction obviously. He couldn't know exactly how much control over her powers she had at the moment, or how vindictive she felt about him touching her.

Bonnie struggled to sit up, resting on her elbows, and opened her eyes. Her head hurt, and it only grew worse with the light shining through the trees.

"How does she know you, brother? Do not tell me you—?"

"No! No, I've never seen her before in my life!"

"Of course you have!" Bonnie interjected. Elena and both brothers were here, which means even if her spell had nominally worked, she would only be far back enough to cause drama, not to remove herself from the storyline. Bonnie groaned, in pain and frustration.

"Can you help me up, Stefan? I just want to get out of here." And Stefan touching her wouldn't cause the hair at the back of her neck to stand up, alert for danger.

Stefan's face, just swimming into view, suddenly looked terrified.

"Why Stefan, she says your name so boldly. You must be quite familiar with her." What was Elena talking about?

"Elena, what are you guys on? Of course you know me, we've known each other since—"

It was at that moment Bonnie actually looked at her friend, and her two paramours. They were dressed like they were still on Caroline's Miss Mystic float. But this wasn't the dress Elena had worn that day, and she wasn't wearing her vervain necklace.

"We are standing on the ground. Who is this Elena?"

Neither Stefan or Damon were wearing their rings. The sun was shining brightly. They were dressed for the Founder's Day parade. They knew no Elena. They didn't know Bonnie. _May become displaced for a few days_ _,_ Emily's Grimoire had warned. More like a century.

"Oh fuck."

"Pardon me?"

Bonnie shook her head, ignoring the shocked exclamations at her expletive. This could not be possible.

"No, no no. God no. How am I going to get back?"

"We could easily bring you back to wherever you have run from if that is what you are asking. Are you from the Lockwood estate?" Stefan suggested. The familiar name pierced through Bonnie's panic. Lockwood? Why would she want to go to Tyler's house?

Then her entire body filled with dread. Her arms felt like lead and her throat seemed to close. If her panicked hypothesis was correct, she'd far overshot her 3 month goal. Instead, she now stood in antebellum Virginia. 1864. The Civil War was still being fought; the north had not yet won. Slavery was the law of the land and Bonnie was black.

They'd been debating if she was a runaway. Stefan's comment on her prettiness stood in sudden, sharp clarity. A comment on her viability to be in the house, a _house slave._ The shock, horror, and the pain in Bonnie's head coalesced. She leaned over and vomited.

Bonnie thought as fast as she could, playing out a few more wretches, that soon turned real, in order to buy herself another moment to feverishly patch a plan together. Swallowing, she looked up at the three people that wore familiar faces, but did not know her. And, Bonnie mused, she did not really know them either. They were far above her, physically, standing while she still lay on the ground, but more than that as well. They were white and Bonnie had landed herself in 1864. She felt a sob tear itself out of her throat, and swallowed it back with some difficulty.

"I apologize. I must have disturbed you. The sun," Bonnie gestured above them all as she spoke slowly, "the heat. I'm not used to it yet. I'm afraid it's affected my head." Bonnie didn't know how she was supposed to speak, or what she was even going to say. She wasn't prepared for this. But she wasn't about to bow and scrape and say Master. Not only was it repugnant to her, but she doubted she'd be able to play that part convincingly for longer than five seconds.

"Miss Katherine Pierce, I presume? Your miniatures haunt the ballrooms of Boston, and many of the city miss you greatly."

Katherine, narrowed her eyes, further distancing her face from Elena's in Bonnie's mind. Bonnie would have to say more, before the vampire snapped her neck and compelled the brothers to forget it all.

"My mother sent me here as something of a pack mule I'm afraid," Bonnie let out a laugh here. As if she didn't have a real care in the world, and it was completely normal for a young black woman to travel alone when dogs and slave catchers roamed the woods and battles were fought over the rights of people, people who had skin the color of hers, to call themselves people at all.

The laugh was strained, but hopefully they couldn't hear that.

"It's a set of stones for you, Miss Pierce. I was planning to deliver them to an Emily Bennett, but it seems the Virginia heat has landed me in your path instead." Bonnie hoped that Katherine and Emily had not yet made the daylight rings for the Salvatores. She would think that Bonnie was carrying lapiz lazuli to Emily for enchantment. As Bonnie had hoped, Katherine's eyes lit up and she nodded eagerly.

"Why of course! I've been eagerly anticipating their arrival. I can't say that I expected their bearer to be—" she paused for a delicate moment. "quite like you. But what is your name dear girl?"

Bonnie startled. What kind of hell was this, that Katherine Pierce was calling her dear? And what was she supposed to say? Would them knowing her name affect the future? Would her being related to Emily Bennett be a help or a hindrance?

"Bonnie McCullough." Bonnie so she could still be herself, McCullough to remember that despite the lies and the work ahead of her and the grind of the society she'd landed herself in, she was still a person of value. If she could have said King or Turner without crying, she would have.

"Bonnie! Of course." Katherine enthused, as if they were already friends, and smiled widely. Bonnie shuddered at the glint of the sun off her white teeth.

"You've come all this way, and we've done you a great disservice by leaving you on the ground like this. We were on our way back to the house when we came upon you, just follow us." She practically picked Bonnie off the ground, though she concealed how much of the witch's weight she was taking on with an elegant swish of her hoop skirt. She brushed a few leaves from Bonnie's hair and back.

"I must say these pants are quite daring, even for one of your—" The vampire seemed to a master of the suspenseful pause, "profession. But I find I quite like them. Maybe I'll commission a pair for myself for riding." With a wink, Katherine turned, and let out a sparkling laugh. Damon and Stefan quite forgot Bonnie was there, entranced with the laugh and the woman.

"Let's go then boys!" The so-called boys each mounted one of the waiting horses. Stefan helped Katherine on to the back of his own, not looking at Bonnie. Did they expect her to follow on foot?

"Here, take my hand. You can ride with me." Bonnie looked up to see Damon Salvatore, asshole extraordinaire, holding out his hand for her to take.

"Damon, do you really think that is wise, she is—"

"Oh brother, do lighten up. Besides, do you expect her to run behind us the whole way back home?"

Bonnie grasped his hand gratefully, for once happy to touch him. She'd braced herself, ready for it to feel different from the few times she had touched him in the past, well, in the future. But he wasn't Edward Cullen, and his hands were the same as ever. Warm and firm, and carrying the same shadowy psychic imprint. Perhaps they now sported a few rougher callouses, but Bonnie thought that probably had more to do with his lack of work in the future than his undead status.

He went to pull her sideways into saddle, but Bonnie swung her leg high over the horses neck. She was wearing pants, so there was really no need for the modesty of side saddle. Besides, it was uncomfortable.

Bonnie hadn't been on a horse in years, and had never ridden double before. Still, couldn't help her smile as the familiar motion of a horse beneath her began, and she looked out into the forest from feet above her normal vantage point. Damon, surprisingly, kept silent. No rude comments, and no attempting to push her off the horse. Bonnie glanced back, and grew slightly worried. She was sure the horse knew the terrain well, it had a sure step, but Damon was not paying attention at all. Instead, he stared at Katherine. Stefan shared his preoccupation, which was even more worrying as Katherine was seated directly behind him in the saddle.

"How about a race, little brother?"

Bonnie would have rolled her eyes at Damon's ridiculousness if she wasn't so annoyed. Riding double on a one-man saddle was already uncomfortable, for both her and the horse, and now he wanted to race?

"Game on, Damon!" With that, Stefan kicked his horse, rather hard Bonnie thought, and galloped off. Katherine was laughing her head off behind him, taking advantage of the situation and clinging to the younger Salvatore's broad back.

Damon took off after him, focused on regaining their lost ground and bemoaning Stefan's cheating under his breath. Bonnie knew they were going to lose at this rate. She had a giant rock in her bag, and Katherine's skirts, while voluminous, hardly made up the difference. Plus, Damon considered her about as much as one would a sack of flour, that is, not at all.

Bonnie secured her bag, wincing at the bruise she surely had gained on her thigh from the bloodstone thumping against her leg as the horse began its gallop. She leaned forwards, for aerodynamics, and also to try and gain a few inches between her back and Damon's chest. He leaned with her, so that part of the plan failed.

Stefan and Katherine were still five or six horse lengths ahead of Bonnie and Damon, and each trill of Katherine's laughter caused Damon to tense further.

"Ease up, Salvatore." Bonnie probably should have included a mister in there, but she was more concerned for the horse Damon was digging his heels into than forgotten courtesies.

He ignored her, determinedly looking ahead, knuckles clenched white around the reins.

"Oh, honestly." Bonnie had the wind in her hair, a competitive spirit, and more confidence in her ability to think clearly and steer their horse straight. She snatched the reins from his grasp. She didn't bother trying to remove his feet from the stirrups, her legs were much shorter than his and could hardly reach.

Damon stiffened, shocked at her action.

"Stop kicking our horse if you want to win. And hang on." For a moment Bonnie thought he would refuse, and wrestle control of the horse back from her. But he didn't. He trusted her enough to let her have control of the steed, which, while not intelligent given she was a mysterious stranger, Bonnie appreciated. He must really want to beat Stefan.

Bonnie leaned forward, giving the horse much more free rein. Damon, again, mirrored her action. At their speed, the other couple would hardly be able to tell which of them was steering and which was the passenger.

The horse sped up, much more eager to follow an encouraging hand. As were most people. Not, Bonnie thought disparagingly at her companion, that Damon would learn that anytime in the next century.

Their horse outstripped Stefan's easily. Bonnie held back her own laugh at Stefan's shocked face, but Damon didn't bother. His human laugh was nice, not edged with the cruelty and bitterness it would later hold.

Bonnie and Damon flew through the arched gateway, up the long and manicured drive. Bonnie pulled back on the reins, slowing the horse, and the great house loomed large over them. She could see men and women discreetly trimming the plants along the front of the house, or bustling into a darkened doorway beneath the bright stone of the mansion's façade. They were slaves, and she was on the back of a horse with their owner. The nausea returned immediately, and Bonnie handed the reins back to Damon and slipped from the horse.

He hurriedly followed and gestured for her to wait.

"I don't know how you did it, Miss McCullough, but I'm very appreciative. Stefan has been beating me at every race since father bought him that new horse." Damon said earnestly. 

Bonnie nodded, and tried to smile back at him.

"The horse wants to win too, you just have to let her."

Damon's grin widened. Bonnie valiantly ignored how handsome he was.

"I'll have to remember that in the future. But for now," He swept into a brief bow, reaching for Bonnie's hand, "I am in your debt." His fingers were warm against her palm, and his breath ghosted over the back of her hand before he pressed a kiss to her knuckles and stood.

"Perhaps I'll make it up to you with a pair of gloves."His face hovered over her bare hand for another moment, before he straightened and took a step back.

Bonnie's face heated with embarrassment. She was pretty sure he was hinting at her impropriety, no dress, no gloves, and no hat. But it wasn't like she came prepared for this.

Stefan and Katherine's thundering arrival saved her from any necessary response. Stefan pulled the horse to a halt right next to Damon and Bonnie, kicking up dust, before leaping from its back. As he turned to lift Katherine down, he spoke.

"I am shocked that you won brother. My horse surpasses yours by far usually."

"Well, the horse's legs do the running, but the rider must be equally skilled to win the race." Bonnie hadn't meant to speak, but Stefan's unexpected smarminess shocked her into doing so. Besides, that was also kind of an insult to Damon, because she was really the rider who won them the race. It wasn't easy to insult both brothers at once without resorting to cheap shots at all vampires, so she'd take the chance when she could.

"I would watch how you—!" His angry exclamation was interrupted by Katherine. She rested a hand on his arm with a smile.

"Wise words, Bonnie. Now, come with me. We have to get you cleaned up, you look dreadful." Her familiar use of Bonnie's name and warm tone were belied by the ending insult. Still, Bonnie believed the critical assessment of her looks. They had found her unconscious on the forest floor after all.

Damon and Stefan handed their horses' reins off to a black groom without a word. Expectant, unthinking, and unappreciative. Bonnie looked away and followed Katherine into the house.

* * *

Katherine let a young girl fill a copper basin with steaming water, filling the room with talk of flowers and fashions. Then she sent the girl to find Emily, and stopped bullshitting.

"So, what set of stones could you possibly be carrying Bonnie _McCullough?_ " There was a sneer of emphasis over Bonnie's fake last name, and Bonnie knew the vampire had heard her heart stutter over the word. "Because I've already received the two I was expecting, and I don't like surprises. Tell me, who really sent you here?"

Bonnie thought she caught a splinter of fear in Katherine's eyes. But that hardly made sense, what did this woman have to fear from Bonnie? And that question was an odd one, the witch thought. Did Katherine expect she was here to harm her, or sent by some mysterious other power?

"It's not exactly a stone for you, Miss Pierce. It's for Emily Bennett, and it comes with a warning for one of her descendants." Of course, since that descendant was Bonnie herself, she could be sure it wouldn't be received.

"Is it a threat? Because I warn you, the Bennett line is a well-protected one."

Bonnie shook her head.

"It is no threat. I know what kind of people protect the line and I know they will for at least another century and a half." First Katherine would protect the Bennetts, then Damon. Vampires were bodyguards for Bennett witches.

A quick knock sounded, and Emily entered the room. She nodded subserviently towards Katherine before turning towards Bonnie.

Bonnie could feel her curious gaze and, even more clearly, her curious magic. It probed at her, and Bonnie felt the moment it recognized her as a Bennett, as a family member not yet known. Now was the time to come clean. Or as clean as she could.

"My real name is Bonnie Bennett. I'm your granddaughter, or rather the great-granddaughter of your great-granddaughter. I've had a bit of a spell mishap and ended up here."

Katherine and Emily both stared at her, eyes wide. Katherine spoke first.

"You're from the future." It didn't sound like a question, but Bonnie nodded. She didn't like Katherine, but she was powerful, and could help her more than anyone else in this time, especially if she was working with Emily. "And you know me, and the Salvatore brothers, in the future?"

Emily, who just was coming around to having her descendant from the future in the room with her, looked confused again. Bonnie just nodded, wanting to allow them processing time.

"But you didn't call me Katherine, you called me Elena." The vampire mused. 

Bonnie thought of Elena and Katherine's shared features and focused on keeping her heart steady.

"When I first saw your face, that's what you were calling yourself."

Katherine accepted this easily, despite the odd phrasing.

"Not the first name change I've had. Elena…I like it."

Bonnie smiled, that was something, she was sure, that would change. Katherine seemed playful again.

"Think of it! Me, in the future, with both Salvatore brothers and a Bennett witch still at my side. Good to know these good times will last. Though—" She sat up from where she'd flopped back onto the bed. "It does seem a bit boring. That's at least a century away, and I'm still doing the same thing." Bonnie focused on the cloth provided with the basin of steaming water, rubbing it into her skin and wishing for a hot shower.

"You all weren't together for the whole time. And I didn't meet you until pretty recently." All true. Katherine's smiled returned. Emily was still frowning.

"But why are you here? You said there was an accident? What were you trying to do? What spell did you use?" Emily's voice was chilling, not purposefully, but because it reminded Bonnie of her possession.

Bonnie explained as quickly as she could, without saying anything about why she had wanted to go back three months in time. She handed over the bloodstone for inspection at Emily's request, and yielded to Katherine's hands pushing her behind the trifold room separator.

"Get out of those ridiculous clothes. To think, we abandon skirts for trousers in the future. And skin-tight ones at that. I cannot wait to see it!" Drawers and cupboard doors were rapidly opened and closed, too rapidly for a human. "Luckily, I have nearly a full wardrobe of clothes I haven't worn here yet- I have to keep up some appearances of wartime scarcity even if they all think I'm a union supporter with Emily here and free. And you'll confirm that of course, a negro friend! How they'll gasp!" Bonnie winced. Emily looked up from the stone.

"Your gowns, Katherine? Surely I can just take her below stairs while we figure this out?"

"No, not possible. I need Bonnie at my side at all times, I can't let you learn all about the future without me, Emily. Besides, she hardly knows what she's doing, and you know those below stairs are much better at catching people in a lie than the idiots up here. And she implied to the Salvatores that she was someone of society in Boston and knew me from my travels there. And she's shown herself a horsewoman to Damon. There's no helping it, she will be my northern friend come to visit."

All of this was said, despite both Bonnie and Emily trying to interrupt. Bonnie thought the decision had rather less to do with her words about ballrooms and ability to ride a horse, and more to do with Katherine wanting to separate the two Bennetts.

"But what about…" Bonnie trailed off, unsure how to broach the subject. "I'm black. Slavery is still legal in this time. Also, don't call me your negro friend. It's offensive." This last bit was directed at Katherine who hardly bristled. Bonnie guessed that there were two types of vampires, one stuck in the social mores of their human times, and ones that eagerly anticipated the next wave of society to adapt to. Bonnie had no idea where Katherine came from, or how old she was, but she knew that she was definitely the second type of vampire.

"I assume from your words the north will win this war, how useful your knowledge is already! But don't worry about a thing. We'll draw up some papers, easy enough. I've rather a deft hand at forging, and compulsion can take care of the rest. I'll tell the boys we met and greeted each other as old friends, and we'll just explain later, once they remember today truly." By this, she meant, once they were vampires and remembered everything that they had been compelled to forget. Bonnie knew that they would wake up changed, without Katherine and certainly without Bonnie, to explain this away. What would they think?

Maybe they wouldn't remember her at all. They hadn't said anything to her about a past twin with her same name when she met them in the 21st century. But maybe they hadn't known her then. Maybe she was changing the past and the future she would hopefully, with Emily's help, get back to, would be completely different. The pounding in her head, long subsided, returned with a vengeance. Bonnie wished she'd paid more attention when her freshman boyfriend made her watch Back to the Future.

"I don't think I'll be able to pull it off. Things are different in the future, we have different rules, I even speak differently."

"They'll write everything off as you being from the north, or black, or simply eccentric. This town is full of outsiders right now, some of them who are idiots who insist on speaking like old Liz is still on the throne. You'll hardly stand out at all." Bonnie doubted this, but also doubted further denials would succeed.

"You could do with some accomplishments though, if only to keep me entertained. Obviously, you have magic, but that has to stay secret, unless you want to perform silly seances all day. Can you play an instrument? Embroider? Sing? Dance? Recite with perfect elocution?"

Bonnie shook her head.

"Not a big thing in the future, and I doubt doing a round off back handspring is appropriate now." Bonnie said. She was proud of her cheer ability, but doubted it would be coming in handy any time soon. Katherine looked disappointed and intrigued. "I can speak Mandarin, and some French."

"Well French is standard, but Pearl will be so pleased at the Mandarin! I've been meaning to learn for decades to please her, but I'm no good at languages I don't live among. Wherever did you pick that up?"

"Mandarin? School mostly. I'm hoping it will look good on my applications to university."

"You want to attend a university!" Katherine seemed positively appalled. Bonnie used her distraction to fully pull on the ridiculous bloomers that had been tossed over the barrier. The corset was a lost cause without assistance, so she came out into the room, holding it up and looking rather pathetic. Katherine began lacing without prompting.

"Is that normal in the future, a woman going to university?"

Bonnie winced at how tight Katherine was pulling the corset but nodded.

"As normal as a man going now. School populations are about evenly split."

Finished with the corset, Katherine pulled a green silk gown over Bonnie's head.

"I cannot wait to hear more of this glorious future Bonnie. But for now, we're expected downstairs."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from: the more things change, the more they stay the same
> 
> McCullough is Bonnie's last name in the book series, but the reference Bonnie makes here is to [Robert McCullough](https://www.nytimes.com/2006/08/11/us/11mccullough.html), a Civil Rights activist.


	3. bears poison fruit

_The farther backward you can look,_  
the farther forward you can see.  
—Winston Churchill

"You seem just lovely Miss Bonnie. I can see why the language fascinates Jonathan; it is so…different." Bonnie smiled, trying not to feel like a show pony facing its final exams. Stefan and Damon's father had been grilling her for the past half hour, as dishes arrived and were carried away by silent servants.

The room's heat was stifling, and Bonnie had never been so aware of how good a life she'd had in a time of air conditioning and ice cream. And where a grown man grilling you over dinner had more to do with him approving you as a girlfriend for his son, and less to do with you staying free, from shackles or a stake.

Giuseppe Salvatore asked his questions kindly. Not exactly what she had expected, especially from the stories Elena had recounted in her post-date debriefs with Bonnie and Caroline. He seemed a loving father.

"You should attend the Founder's Day Ball with us. I am sure that one of my boys would be happy to escort you, I believe they have finally finished fighting over, ahem, deciding who will be escorting Miss Katherine." This was said in good humor by Mr. Salvatore, but immediately drove the brothers to wear matching scowls. Some things, Bonnie thought, never change. Katherine sat between the two brothers, looking as innocent as a dove, even as she drove a gigantic wedge between them that would remain for a hundred and fifty years. At least.

"Founder's Day? I thought this was a new town?" Bonnie vaguely remembered that the last Founder's Day celebration in Mystic Falls marked the 150th anniversary, but she'd been mostly avoiding it, like always. The antebellum south didn't exactly mean pretty silk dresses and parades for people like her. Or, Bonnie chanced a glance down at her ridiculous ruffled skirts, so she'd thought. Her memory of the parade was largely dominated by fire, and death, and her desperate search for a solution, but still, she was pretty certain on that 150. Carol Lockwood had said it often enough. Were the founding families celebrating themselves for starting the town a couple of years ago?

The patriarch clapped. "I see Miss Pierce has been writing you about our little community. And I see you have been paying more attentions to my rambles than I believed Katherine." He shot the vampire a familiar and indulgent smile. "We've christened the town Mystic Falls very recently, just before this nasty business with the tyrannical north broke out. It used to be less organized, and was just known as Fell's Church, after the church Honoria's family built years ago. But we are a town now, and it has helped keep us together during these hard times. The ball will be small, but we're hoping to collect some money to send to the boys at the front and maybe start a tradition as well." This last statement was colored by a glare at Damon, which helped mask Bonnie's blanche. He wanted her to go to a party that was raising money for the Confederacy? God help her.

"But at I was saying, you've come at the perfect time. Afterall, one of my boys here is still unattached." Bonnie thinks Katherine may have gone overboard on the compulsion. This man was way too accepting of her at his table and in his home.

"I could never accept, sir. I would rather not go to the celebration at all then be someone's second choice. Even if that someone is Damon Salvatore." Giuseppe Salvatore's eyes danced with amusement at Bonnie's refusal while Damon just looked peeved.

"And why would you assume that Stefan is escorting her to the celebration, Miss McCullough?" Damon seemed seriously miffed and Bonnie suppressed an unladylike snort.

"Well, Katherine and I are old friends, she confided her choice earlier to me. Besides, your brother wears his victory quite openly on his face." Stefan did look supremely smug. Damon raised an eyebrow, conceding the point to her, but didn't look away from Bonnie.

She remembered those early days of Elena and Stefan's courtship. What was the term she'd used for Stefan's focus? A romance novel stare to pierce the soul? It was an ability obviously shared between brothers, stemming from their familial blood and not the supernatural. Now, focused on her, it seemed much more piercing than romantic. A Heathcliff, not a Darcy, ready to flay her down to her very bones to see just what made her tick. Bonnie shivered, despite the heat.

"Ah, but this was before your arrival. Perhaps if you'd graced us with your presence earlier, we'd have been arguing over you." Bonnie didn't curb her amusement at Damon's words, and her wide smile was accompanied by a loud laugh.

"Now Mr. Salvatore, no one can fault you for raising your sons to be charming, but this is too much. They must also know the value of honesty."

"Ah! You're calling me a liar, and you won't even do it to me face. How cruel, I thought love would be a rose, but your scorn is biting!" Bonnie rolled her eyes at Damon's over the top dramatics, which including chest clutching and the brushing away of fake tears.

"I think you'll find roses have thorns to stab you as readily as my scorn. Besides, there is no lost love between us, and I am not a flower."

"Oh, how your judgement burns me to the core." He continued for a moment more, before a servant set a dish of soup in front of him. He abandoned his thespian ambitions for the food. Dramatics and hunger, how very Damon.

"Are you sure that you would not consider attending with my eldest son?" Bonnie shook her head at the father's further prodding.

"As sorry as I am to inflict your son on the other ladies of your town, I have to insist. I doubt I will go to the party at all, so no one will know he is a man twice scorned." Bonnie spared a guilty thought towards Caroline and the attentions she'd endured from the older Salvatore. How much of his cruelty was born from Katherine's bite, and how much was simply him?

"No other lady will do. We only host the finest here in our great estate, Miss McCullough. If I can't have you or Miss Pierce, I will simply go alone, letting everyone know my shame and misfortune."

"You set yourself up for a lonely life, Mr. Salvatore. Katherine has already spurned your suit, will you chase after her memory forever?" The lady in question shot a sharp look at Bonnie. The witch guessed Katherine didn't want her rejection put in such harsh terms, she wanted a set of Salvatores, not just one. Before Katherine could speak an encouraging word to the eldest, Damon put forward a rejoinder.

"But that is only Miss Pierce accounted for. Which can only mean that my future is entirely in your hands, and it is you that must save me from a lifetime of loneliness by agreeing to accompany me."

"Accompany you for all your days?"

"Well, at least to the Founder's celebration. Would that be amenable?"

"The answer is still no." Bonnie tilted a spoonful of the soup into her mouth, trying, and undoubtedly failing, to copy Katherine's controlled movements. She wanted to gag. The soup was as awful as the pie before it. She missed modern spices.

"Well, a twice stung rejection is definitive. I will respect the lady's wish, though it bids me to die of a broken heart three days from now."

"One night won't kill you." Bonnie couldn't help her slip back into modern speech. The pattern was so familiar. His snark, apparently, was just as strong when he was a human.

"You can only hope. If it does, you'll be a murderess destined for damnation." Bonnie laughed at the thought of Damon Salvatore trying to save her from hell.

"Stay alive then, for the sake of my eternal soul if not your own." Any musing on heaven or hell Damon may have put forward was cut off by Katherine.

"Ahem. As lovely as I have found tonight's meal, I find I'm quite unable to continue. Perhaps, Bonnie and I can retire to the drawing room for a spell, before the gentlemen join us?" Katherine's face did not look kind, and she looked more peckish than stuffed.

"I'm also finished, but I think I will go straight up to my room if you don't mind. I had a long journey today, and I need to rest. Besides, we will have all of tomorrow to catch up on all we have missed in each other's lives since we last spoke." Katherine demurred and Bonnie internally fist pumped. Even vampires could be trapped by social convention.

Bonnie pushed away from the table and headed out the door. Between her heavy and unfamiliar skirts and Katherine's vampire speed, she didn't even make it halfway up the stairs before she had her arms pinned behind her back. Katherine walked her up the stairs the rest of the way before she thrust her through a doorway, into Bonnie's assigned room, and locked the latch behind them.

"Well wasn't that a cute show you put on for all of us. But I don't appreciate you playing with my things. A little flirting with Damon is one thing Bonnie, I know he makes it hard to resist, but don't go putting ideas in his head about me." Bonnie sorely hoped the vervain hadn't left her system yet, because Katherine looked ready to make a meal of her.

"Flirting? Are you joking? Me and Damon are always like that, we just, rub each other the wrong way."

"Well now he wants to rub you the right way, and if that's how you are used to speaking with him, I would guess it's not a new development. But, more importantly, how did you know which of them I chose?"

Her words could have been referring to her choice of escort, but the emphasis on _chose_ implied something else, a deeper feeling from Katherine.

"I'm from the future, remember? Which is why I know you chose Stefan, and how I know that Damon wasn't, and isn't, interested in me. He still carries a torch for you in a hundred years, even with all of your bullshit."

"I keep them on the line that long? God, I'm good." She tossed her curls and released Bonnie's arms. "But speaking of bullshit, I should tell you, Damon knows some of yours." Bonnie's head snapped up.

"What do you mean?"

Katherine smirked.

"Well, I know I said that I was going to compel the boys, but I haven't needed to use my powers to convince Damon to do anything yet. It seemed such a waste to break my record for such a trivial thing. I just dropped a few hints of course, not the whole truth, but that could change." Considering that trivial thing was Bonnie's life, she didn't feel great about this choice, especially since Katherine wasn't happy with her at the moment.

"Fine, whatever. I'll step off your man. Men. But promise me you'll compel Damon if he tries to expose me as a witch."

"Deal! Now come on, I figured you would need as much help unlacing as you did lacing." Bonnie was more eager to get out of the corset than she was wary to take Katherine's word. She turned again, and let the vampire begin to untie the knots.

"You have to be more careful, no more slips of the tongue. And it's not about the boys. There are two dozen other vampires in the town, and I don't want any of them knowing our little secret. Who knows what they would do to you to make you spill what you know. Bad enough they'll know you're a witch, but that can hardly be hidden. Not with your magic practically crackling across your skin."

"I'll be careful."

"Great, because I have someone you need to meet!"

"Who?"

"That would be me." Bonnie whirled, surprised by the voice coming from the previously empty corner of the room. Standing there, was an elegantly dressed Asian woman who looked about 30 years old. Bonnie knew she was centuries older.

"Pearl! We were supposed to meet in my room. And god, why are you dressed so formally still? I assumed you'd come in your dressing gown."

"Well, I'm going to run into Jonathan accidentally later tonight, on a late night stroll, and I can't very well do that in a dressing gown. The scandal it would cause." The two vampires laughed, and Bonnie shifted awkwardly. Which accidental meeting include the charmed pocket watch? When would he know Pearl was a monster? Should she warn her? Could she? She didn't know what kind of paradox changing the future this far back in time would cause, or how many lives would be lost to Pearl's hunger if she lived a century and a half outside of that tomb.

"Well shoo. I have something I need to give you, we'll meet you in a minute." In a flash, Pearl was gone, out the window and to another part of the house. Katherine and Bonnie followed at a more sedate pace, through the hallway.

"This door leads to my rooms. Right around the corner, past that horridly ugly marble bust, is Damon's room. And that one we just passed leads to Stefan's. Unlucky for you, your room shares a wall with his. Don't expect any apologies." With a wink, she opened the door. Bonnie scoffed, disgusted. In the future, Stefan was her friend, or something like one. She didn't want to see him used like this.

The door opened to a formal living room, instead of the bedroom Bonnie was expecting. Of course Katherine had the nicest digs in the house. Bonnie wouldn't be surprised if she'd compelled the master suite out from under Giuseppe Salvatore.

Pearl sat primly on the sofa, sipping at a cup of tea. Or at least, a liquid which was held in a teacup.

"I'm Bonnie McCullough. It's good to formally meet you." Bonnie strode forward, her hand outstretched, already braced for the psychic shock of touching a new vampire. Pearl pinched her hand between two fingers, and jerked it once, like it was a dead rat.

"A handshake? How forward. Still, it's always a pleasure to meet someone of your talents that retains a friendly disposition towards one with mine. We're happy to have you. This is my daughter, Annabelle." In a blink, Pearl's daughter stood next to her mother. She hadn't even been in the room when they'd entered.

It was jarring to see the dead walk. The actual dead, not the undead, and one that Bonnie had indirectly killed at that. So far, Bonnie had been surrounded by either new, or familiar faces. She didn't really know this Stefan or Damon, but they were the same people at their core, and they were as alive as she expected them to be. Pearl and Anna were another matter entirely.

"It's good to meet you both. I hope I can be a friend to you both. Please sit, Anna." She was the only one who had remained standing and having a vampire hovering over her shoulder did nothing to help Bonnie relax.

The girl gave the witch an odd look, but sat. Bonnie realized that she'd used Anna's preferred name from the future, and silently cursed. She had promised less than 15 minutes ago to be careful, and already she had slipped again. Luckily, neither Pearl or Katherine seemed to think anything of it, and had launched into a discussion of fashion without any input needed from Bonnie. It was only when she realized they were discussing fashion in the context of her, as in the gown she would wear to this stupid Founder's celebration, that Bonnie decided her involvement was necessary. Who knew what monstrosity she would end up in if she left it entirely in their hands?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a poison tree bears poison fruit


	4. a house divided

_The belief in a supernatural source of evil is not necessary._   
_Men alone are quite capable of every wickedness._   
_—Joseph Conrad_

"Your book is not a very wise read. It is merely trite propaganda." Bonnie looked up from the stark white pages of her chosen book. It was a first edition, already more than a decade old, but the spine had never been cracked. She was sure that no one had ever opened the copy of Frederick Douglass' autobiography before she lay her hands on it today.

"Why Mr. Salvatore, you insult your own father's taste. I picked it from your library, after all." Stefan didn't smile at her coyness, as Damon had yesterday, though he did deign to take a seat in the grass next to her. Maybe the younger Salvatore only expressed his appreciation for word games when they came from Katherine, or women who looked like her.

"It was bought for research purposes, not out of sentiment or sympathy."

"And you doubt my need for research?" That is, after all, why Bonnie had picked up the book in the first place. She'd remembered Mr. Tanner mentioning it in class, and his particular cruel taunts when she couldn't answer his questions about it, despite, as he put it, her personal stake in the subject matter.

"I wouldn't think you would need such a book to be familiar with its contents." Tanner thought her too distant from her past, Stefan thought her too close. She set aside her reading material to fully face Stefan.

"I was born free. Things are very different here from where I'm from." Stefan snorted at her words.

"Yes, the great and terrible Boston," Bonnie didn't correct him. After all, she couldn't exactly say that she'd been born in a hospital less than 10 miles from the very tree they sat under, or that she'd never seen Boston, in 2010 or 1864.

"Like I said, I'm not from around here."

"That much is obvious. The real question becomes then, why are you here? You wear your origins so blatantly that no one could accuse you of hiding natural sympathies, but that doesn't put you above suspicion."

"I'm sorry, suspicion of what? As for why I'm here, it's to visit my friend."

"You know very well what I am suspicious of. You're not even subtle, being what you are. Not to mention the Irish name. And that you use your innocent friend to further your schemes disgusts me. Abusing Katherine's good will, and my father's, so you can learn secrets to send back to Washington!" Bonnie was shocked. Allusions to her being a runaway were surprising, but a union spy? That was something else.

"And what information, exactly, would I be sending to my hypothetical handlers in Washington? That the Salvatores still serve five course dinners, despite the shortages? That the two brothers fight over a woman, and their slaves have no idea how close the front is, or that the outcome of this war will decide their futures? Even if I were what you suggest, any information found here would be either useless or already obvious!"

She stopped her tirade with harsh breaths and waited for him to respond. His carefully blank face seemed so different from the one she knew in the 21st century. There, it was a cultivated blank mask, with compassion and curiosity just peeking out around its edges. Here, the blankness seemed desperately clung to, and hinted at banked anger.

Bonnie eyed the careful foot of space Stefan had kept between them. She thought of the compulsion that Katherine needed to use on him to make him accepting of his desire towards her and her murderous intentions towards others. Bonnie considered Stefan in the future, the football star dating a cheerleader. He modeled himself off the morals of society, the image of a good man, but this time told him that they were not equals, and that they were at war.

"My brother is a soldier you know. He left school to fight for Virginia, for the Confederacy. My father believes it will be the making of him, once his leave ends."

"Stefan, Stefan, Stefan. Do you really have so little to brag about that you are left to boast about my exploits?" Bonnie twisted around, she hadn't heard Damon and Katherine approaching, though neither had ever been quiet or inconspicuous in their lives.

"War and killing are not things to be laughed at or bragged about." Bonnie's words surprised all three of her listeners. Katherine looked considering and Stefan petulant. The haughtiness and humor melted from Damon's features, and his voice was bleak.

"And what would you know of death and war, Miss Bonnie? What the newspapers tell you? War and death cannot be captured through still photos and poorly written news articles. Have you ever seen someone die? Have you ever locked eyes with a man across the slimmest stretch of grass, and known one of you would have to kill the other? Have you seen the life drain from someone's eyes, knowing you were the cause, knowing that you have taken their life for yours, and wondered if you made a poor trade?"

Katherine seized her moment, pulling the heaviness of the conversation in her favor.

"Stefan, you know talk of war bores me. Let's leave our friends to their sorrow, you promised to show me Willow Creek today."

"So I did!" Stefan leapt up, and the two raced back towards the house without another word passed between them. Damon took his brother's place beside her, though he kept less space between himself and her skirts than Stefan had.

"You're right, Mr. Salvatore. No newspaper can really capture what war is. No image does its horror justice. But I know some. I've seen bodies left out to be ravaged by the elements, choked on the smoke of burnt human flesh, held the death stiffened body of the person I loved most in this world. And I've made that trade, deciding the life of myself and my friends was more important that the life of those who would threaten it." Bonnie's words choked off, remembering her Grams and the dangers she'd faced in Mystic Falls. One of those dangers was the very man who sat next to her.

"I know people who think death is a game, and killing is fun, and they are monsters—"

"But war makes monsters of us all?"

"No, monsters make the war. This war will be remembered as the bloodiest in United States history, and why did it start? Because people didn't want to pay their laborers?"

"I think you know there's a bit more to it than that. But Stefan seems to have been right about your sympathies."

"And how do you figure that? Because I think war is abhorrent or because of my skin color?"

"Because you called it the United States." Bonnie gaped like a fish. Damn, another slip. Damon continued.

"But more than that, you talk about it like our great War for Southern Independence will be over in a minute, and we'll all be together again, licking our wounds as a single country. Is that so?" His voice was mocking and serious in turns, and Bonnie had a hard time deciding whether he thought southern independence, or herself, were more ridiculous.

"Yeah, it is."

"And what will happen to our dear dependents? And how will my father live without a boy around to button his cuffs and wipe his ass? You can't expect him to do it himself!" Bonnie blinked at the vulgarity, realizing how quickly she's adapted to the language of the time, the lack of expletives, and the additional seething hate hidden underneath.

"They'll be free, to live as they choose with no masters."

"Next you'll be telling me they'll vote in our elections." He might be teasing, but Bonnie smirked, thinking of the President she'd left behind in 2010. The future had never felt so close, or so far.

"Yup. Women too, you know."

"Ah, and she supports women's suffrage too. A true radical." He was definitely smiling now. "Let me tell you a secret?" Bonnie nodded. "Sounds nice." Bonnie's mouth dropped open as Damon's matter of fact shrug.

"I can't imagine anyone new messing up more than the ones in power already have. And I'd rather have you, Miss McCullough, deciding our future than my father." Damon gave an exaggerated bow and Bonnie rolled her eyes. To think, Damon Salvatore: an abolitionist and suffragist, if only to annoy his father. Though, one thing about him didn't track if that were true. She'd seen him in his uniform. Bonnie's train of thought was cut off by Damon's leaning in. He whispered, his face close to hers.

"Besides, it hardly matters. Both you and I know that real power lays, not with gender or race, but with blood." His eyes were alight, glad to have a third to share the secret of a largely unknown world.

"So all humans are equal, as cattle, under their vampire lords and masters? That's no better than this plantation."

"It's different. They're predators, it's the natural order of things."

"No need for guilt, or a respect for human life, because they're physically inferior?"

"Not exactly how I would put it, but yes."

"Your father would probably say the same thing when whipping a slave who learned to read. That he is just preserving the natural order."

"How can you say that? You and Katherine, it's an entirely different plane of existence. We are but ants before you, washed away in the sands of time." She and Katherine? Bonnie's mind raced.

"What exactly did Katherine say about me?"

"That you were an old friend, like the other visitors in town." Is this why Damon had been kind to her? He was hedging his bets on immortality?

"Mr. Salvatore," Bonnie reached a hand out for his, so he could feel the easy give of her muscles. "I am no vampire." His fingers tightened around hers, his face a mask of confusion.

"You're a human?"

"Sorry to disappoint." She said jokingly, trying to lighten the mood again. He released her hand but didn't move away as Bonnie expected.

"I am not disappointed, but I am surprised. More than Katherine's friendship there is…something about you, something more. You can taste it in the air when you're close. If you are a human, you're an extraordinary one." The time travel must have left a residue, because both Katherine and Damon had noticed her magic without her even using it. But Bonnie was not about to be burned at the stake as a witch, even if Damon was trying to be charming.

"Your words hardly match up with your actions." Bonnie redirected the conversation, trying to steer it towards non-magic waters.

"Which words and which actions are those?"

"You say you would trust me more than your father to govern, that humans are equal, and you don't use abolition as a dirty word." Damon nodded once with each assertion.

"Yet you wear grey and fight for the Confederacy. Do you see my confusion?"

Damon picked at the long grass in front of him before answering.

"I am seven years older than my brother and have always tried to protect him when I could." He paused, the silent moment stretching long, but Bonnie did not dare to break it. "No, that's not how I should start. That makes me out too honorably." He threw away a broken off piece of grass and started again.

"This whole town thinks I'm worthless, including, no, especially, my own father. I've never had to work for what I had and I spent my youth drinking and gambling and fucking. I nearly dishonored the Maxwell girl, and my father has cut me from the will for it." This was a surprise to Bonnie, as Damon still walked around the estate as if he would one day own it, and his father hadn't seemed cross with him in her presence.

"So I decided to go to university, to make a man of myself up in New Haven, where no one knows me. But this thrice-damned war broke out and all the good Virginians were heading home. So I came home. I had half a thought to pack up Stefan and get us both back north, or away from the border at least. But by the time I got here, I was already too late. Me, they'd written off. My sympathies were well known, and my half-completed university education only distanced me further. But Stefan was a strapping lad, for all he was only fifteen." Damon brushed the small pile of shredded grass he'd amassed off his thigh.

"Fifteen, and eager to defend his home and family. If he had seen the orders he would have joined gladly, proudly. And it would have ruined him." The air around them felt heavy, despite the sunshine and sweet breeze, and Bonnie hesitated to interrupt, but it seemed like Damon was done for now.

"So you took his place and let it ruin you instead?" Damon shook his head at her words, but refused to meet her eyes.

"Weren't you listening? I was already ruined. Besides, I'm his older brother, protecting him is what I'm here for." There was an essay of unspoken words behind this statement, but Bonnie didn't push any further. She was mulling over his current attitude and the brothers' relationship in the 21st century. They seemed to hate each other there and protected each other only in the direst of circumstances. But here they were different. Even their rivalry over Katherine seemed more friendly than antagonistic. What happened to them? Was it just time?

"You're a good brother, Mr. Salvatore, maybe too good." He huffed out a laugh.

"Please, you've just learned my sordid past. Call me, Damon. Plus, with three Salvatores in the house, it can get confusing. And I wouldn't want you confusing me with anyone else." He winked.

Bonnie rolled her eyes at his joking flirtations. As if the Salvatores were interchangeable.

"Then you must call me Bonnie."

"Finally, Miss Bonnie. Now, shall we be friends?"

"Just Bonnie is fine, thank you. But yes, we can be friends." She held her hand out to shake on it, and he greeted her modern manner with little fanfare, giving her a firm handshake and a smile.

"Just Bonnie it is then." With this he looked up at the sky, reading the forecast from the clouds with the ease of practice.

"We should head in; a summer squall is coming in." He stood, wiped any lingering grass off his pants, and extended a hand to help her up. After a firm pull, she was on her feet, dress ballooning around her and undoubtedly covered in grass. They began their walk to the house, through the hedgerow maze, with her hand tucked in the crook of his arm.

"Damon?" Bonnie said. She didn't want to lose this moment to say it, now, when it was still true. He tilted his head downwards, towards her, to let her know he was listening.

"I don't think you're ruined."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a house divided against itself cannot stand


	5. time and tide

_The ache for home lives in all of us, the safe place_   
_where we can go as we are and not be questioned._   
_—Maya Angelou_

“I just don’t understand what I did wrong.” Bonnie had been glaring down at the pages of Emily’s spellbook for the past hour. The spell she’d used to get to the past was there, dark and newly inked on the crisp white pages. The grimoire lacked the age and wear of the one she knew so well, as well as a fair number of the notations, but it still felt familiar in her hands. It hummed with Emily’s magic, which she’d grown very familiar with as she’d tried to model her own magic in its image.

The owner of the spellbook hummed noncommittally, just as she’d done at all of Bonnie’s earlier frustrated exclamations. Emily didn’t even deign to look up from the stockings she was mending. At first this had suited Bonnie fine, she hated to have someone looking over her shoulder as she worked out a problem, but now she could admit that she was completely out of her depth. She needed her ancestor’s help.

“Emily, could you give me some kind of clue here?” The older witch sighed as she tied off her last stitch and looked up to meet Bonnie’s eyes. Emily looked just as she had in the photo album, her face composed and near-emotionless. It was the same face that had been reflected in the mirror that Bonnie had stared into in horror, desperately trying to take back control of her own body. It was only slightly less unsettling now.

“Bonnie, I do not understand how I could possibly help you. You have yet to tell me your affinities, the spell you used to come here, or even your purpose in doing so. I cannot see what you did wrong, because I have no idea what would have been right.” Emily started on the other stocking leg after her final measured word, continuing to sway her rocking chair steadily. Bonnie gaped in disbelief.

“Are you not listening? This is the spell I used. The one you wrote! The one to go back in time! Which was obviously the goal!” Bonnie threw up her hands in the air, barely resisting the urge to set the book on fire and toss it in the other witch’s face. “And I don’t even know what you’re talking about, affinities? Is that some type of magic? Ugh, it doesn’t matter. I’m hopeless at this and I’ll be stuck in this godawful time forever.” Bonnie slumped back onto Emily’s bed, the only other seat in the small room, and closed her eyes. She felt the pinpricks of tears begin to gather and willed herself not to start bawling. She was going to find a way home, she had to. She just needed a break from this stupid grimoire and her stupid ancestor who refused to help her even though Emily totally owed her for possessing her and almost getting her killed in the future. Not that Emily knew about her future ghostly activities. 

“You used that exact spell? From my grimoire?” Bonnie cracked open her eyes to look at Emily, and nodded pitifully. Emily had completely set aside her mending, and was focused wholly on Bonnie. For once, Bonnie could easily detect the emotion on the older witch’s face. But it wasn’t the annoyance she’d been expecting; was confusion.

“You didn’t change it at all?” Bonnie shook her head, but then gave it more consideration.

“No, I mean, maybe I mispronounced a word? That would be just my luck. Use the wrong inflection and get thrown off by a century for a stupid mistake.”

“No, Bonnie, your pronunciation would not have been an issue. But, we have just found your problem. Why would you not change the spell to suit your needs? To suit you?”

“Umm, I’m not exactly experienced enough to start experimenting with spells. I would probably blow myself up if I even tried.” Bonnie thought of the spontaneous fires she had set in her early days of magic discovery, and shivered.

“You’re close to my age, are you saying you haven’t ever changed a spell? Or created one? Have you been focusing on divination or alchemy instead? What do you fill your own grimoire with?” Wow, Bonnie thought, Emily was really pulling the disappointed parent card on her. Bonnie felt like she had failed to do a term paper and her report card had just been discovered. It was shitty, and unfair.

“Okay, you can slow down with the judgement a bit. I’m pretty new at this still, and not all of us can be freaking magical prodigies, or whatever. I’m just trying to figure this out one step a time.”

“You’re…new? How long have you been practicing?”

“Well, Grams started telling me about magic last summer, and I did my first spell in September. So with my time here, that’s like 6 months.” Emily’s eyebrows shot up. It was the fastest Bonnie had ever seen the witch’s face change.

“You performed your first spell half a year ago?” She sounded incredulous. “You’ve known you were a witch for less than a year? Why was it kept a secret? Where was your coven?”

“Umm, yes to the first two. No idea for why my Grams didn’t tell me earlier. Maybe she was hoping my mom would come back and help her with it? Or maybe my dad forbid it when I was younger? He’s not really a fan of all the witchy new age stuff. And I don’t have a coven. Now that my Grams is gone, it’s just me.”

“Oh, Bonnie.” Emily stood and crossed the room. She wrapped her arms around Bonnie and rubbed her hand down her back.

“I’m so sorry.”

“No worries, not your fault.” Not exactly. “And you didn’t know.” Emily pulled away so that she and Bonnie were face to face, but she didn’t let go.

“Bonnie, no witch should practice alone, or learn alone. My small circle is considered dangerous, and it only succeeds because I have Katherine’s strength to fully ground it. And to learn with no mentor, no guide? It is no wonder you were confused by my questions. You have taken on a mountain when you should be studying the smallest pebble.” Bonnie felt this was rather insulting, even if it was kindly meant.

Emily seemed to sense Bonnie’s growing impatience, so she pushed forward with an explanation.

“This isn’t an insult to your abilities or intelligence Bonnie. In fact, knowing your complete lack of foundation makes me very impressed with your accomplishments, even if they were accidental. Even your being alive is impressive.” This mollified Bonnie a bit, but also worried her. What had she done that was so dangerous?

“The first step to magic is knowing yourself. That is what I meant by an affinity. It often relates to a branch of magic, such as divination, or an element of nature. I, for example, have an affinity for the earth. It is how my magic first manifested when I was young, and the magic I find the most comfortable to use. That is why so many of my spells are built around gemstones. It is something I feel mastery over, so additional spells do not weigh quite so much.” Bonnie thought this over, thinking of the many stones referenced in the grimoire, and the ones she had a familiarity with. The bloodstone, the talisman, even the comet. It wasn’t a celestial event, like Damon had thought, it was a giant rock that Emily could draw power from.

“You,” Emily continued with a somewhat wry smirk, “I suspect, do not share my affinity. You have a livelier temperament.” Bonnie laughed. Elena had known Bonnie was possessed in less than a minute because of the difference in their so-called temperaments. “Bonnie, how did your magic first manifest?”

Bonnie thought back to those early days of junior year. She had thought Grams was crazy, but strange stuff had kept happening. Some of it she could now discount as vampire meddling, but some of it was all her.

“Fire, I lit candles, and some other stuff, on fire.” Bonnie paused, thinking about the Lockwood’s dining room, alight from a single thought. “But something else too. I could touch people and sense their future, and sometimes their past.” Emily nodded.

“The fire is fairly straight forward, and not particularly surprising after getting to know you. But the other…many witches have some form of precognition. But it takes practice, and usually more than just a touch. I have a feeling yours has more to do with life and emotion than seeing the future.” Bonnie tried to act like she knew what all of this meant. But her fake-understanding face didn’t work in Tanner’s class and it didn’t work now. Luckily, Emily was more willing to explain than Bonnie’s former history teacher.

“When I create a spell, I am building it. It is solid and immovable, but rigid. My spells are bound by strict rules. I could not fight off a vampire if one attacked me, but I could set a trap that lasts a thousand years.” That was definitely true.

“Your fire affinity means you operate differently. When you craft your own spells you will have to consider what and how much fuel to use, when to have a controlled flame and when to blaze. I suspect you’ll be adept at offensive spells. But because you aren’t thinking about this, your magic is almost wild. When you used my spell,” Emily gestured towards the grimoire that had been tossed aside, “it was meant for me and my understanding of magic. You didn’t have that. You took a keg of black powder to a mountain. Was it effective? In a way, since the spell worked. But it was completely uncontrolled, so you ended up here, instead of the more measured, month long trip you desired.”

“Okay, that makes sense, but why do witches keep grimoires if spells are that personal? And I don’t have a coven at all, how does that work? And what about the hand touchy thing?” Bonnie eagerly asked, drinking up the knowledge that had never been openly offered to her before.

“Well, many witches share affinities, so some spells are more easily adaptable. And, as you’ve shown, you can force spells to work with enough power thrown at them. If you’d known what you were doing, you probably could have made my spell work as you desired, though it probably would have drained your reserves. Also, the fact that spells and grimoires are so personal is another reason to keep them. It is a way to feel close to the witches that came before you, and to keep a record of their achievements and failures.” Bonnie thought of her grandmother, who had shelves full of grimoires and dedicated her life to studying them and teaching the occult to university students. This explanation made sense, but she waited for the rest of her questions to be so neatly put to rest.

“Your lack of coven and ability to…sense people, I think, are related. Most covens are wholly made up of witches. But it is possible to include others, even humans, in them. Witches draw our strength from both within ourselves and our connection to the world. Your affinity is how you perceive and channel that energy, but your coven is your lodestone, your fire starter, if you will. You can access all of Nature, but you sense your coven the most easily, so you draw from them first. It will also make your magic stronger when used on them, whether it is to heal, find, or harm. This isn’t a problem when a coven is all witches who can protect themselves, but you should consider it carefully, as I think you built yourself a coven unconsciously.”

Bonnie opened her mouth to protest. She was pretty sure she’d know if she’d joined a coven. The weekly meetings with chanting and robes that she pictured would have been a dead giveaway. Emily spoke before she could.

“You had a network of friends, including supernatural beings, and a shared goal to protect your hometown. You could detect their sense of self, what you called their emotions or futures, and added those you could trust to your coven. Think about when your magic was strongest, and who you were with. And think of when you arrived here. Did you feel cut off from your powers at all?”

“I thought I was just drained from the spell. I had to rest and get my reserves back. That’s why I’ve focused on finding a way back today, my magic almost feels back to normal.” Emily smiled.

“Your magic is not a finite well that can be emptied. The reason you felt weaker was because your coven was ripped from you. Your access is back because you have added people here, in this time, to your circle. Some of whom, I think, are not entirely new in their membership.” Bonnie thought about how easily she’d fallen into snark with Damon, her attempts to re-forge the trust between her and Stefan, and the instant acceptance Katherine had extended towards her. She thought about Emily’s single raised brow when she was judging Bonnie’s words, so similar to how Grams used to, and recognized her theory as the truth.

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” Emily grasped her hands.

“But Bonnie, I’m worried about you. Covens are usually formed by mutual attachment. Even what Katherine and I have, it isn’t traditional, but we both need each other, and we are both aware of what we draw from the other. You have created a series of one-sided bonds. It is dangerous for you. You’re aware, even if only subconsciously, that they are your people and your magic. You would do anything, give anything, to protect them. If they are not willing to do the same, you could end up seriously hurt, and potentially powerless.” Bonnie felt a chill at the base of her spine. Is that what had happened to Grams? She’d given everything to her granddaughter, and received nothing in return?

Emily saw her downturned expression and cupped her cheek, tilting her face upwards.

“Bonnie, you know now, and that is what is important. Use this knowledge moving forwards, and feel no sorrow or guilt for the past. Tonight, I will be happy to work on this spell with you, and to figure out how it will work with you. But I think we should put it aside for now. You need food, and some more pleasant company than your crotchety old great-great-grandmother.” Bonnie tearfully laughed, and pulled Emily into a hug. This one tight, and desperate. Emily had been a figure in Bonnie’s nightmares for months after the possession, and she’d never imagined she could be a figure of comfort. Now, she felt like an untouched rock in a stormy sea, the one thing Bonnie could rely on not to move.

“Come on, dear, let’s get out of this room. You haven’t even met my children. I’m sure they’ll be eager to fight over which one you’re the descendant of all afternoon.”


	6. than water of the womb

_The enemies are within the gates.  
It is with our own luxury, our own folly,  
our own criminality that we have to contend.  
—Marcus Tullius Cicero_

"We're so far from real society that I have to add the ribbon myself. This is ridiculous. I'm not a milliner and it's been lifetimes since I've had to do such tedious work!" Katherine thrust the needle into her bonnet with a violence never before seen in the Fell's front parlor. Honoria Fell had invited a few choice ladies to work on their Founder's Celebration accessories with her and her daughter, and Bonnie had been dragged along in Katherine's wake.

" _Honestly no one will notice your poor stitches. I am so dreadful at any of this women's work that I'm as slow as a human."_ Katherine had assured her in an attempt to persuade the witch into accepting the invitation. Bonnie had hardly believed her, but she held no doubt of the vampire's words now now. Bonnie's stitches were just as clumsy and amateurish, but she was not nearly as demonstrative in her displeasure as Katherine, so no one mentioned them.

"Oh, Miss Katherine! You've shredded another ribbon. Have you brought anymore?" Katherine pawed through the bag at her side after Honoria's exclamation, and Bonnie could tell that the vampire was suppressing a few choice curse words over Honoria Fell's nosiness and her own clumsy sewing hand. Katherine hadn't wanted to come to this either, not when the Salvatore brothers were free to be toyed with, but Pearl insisted that the pair of vampires appear at town events during the daylight hours regularly.

"I'm out! Well, with no ribbon, I'll just be go—" Katherine had stood, ready to use this as an excuse to leave, but Pearl's glare pinned her down. "and ask young Sebastian to bring me some more." The little boy materialized at the door, as if he'd been waiting to be called. Bonnie didn't know if Emily's oldest child had magical precognition of when he would be needed, or if he was just well trained. Bonnie couldn't imagine that spending time with Katherine lent itself to a childhood forgiving of mistakes.

"I will go and collect some more for you right away, Miss Katherine!" Sebastian Bennett scampered off, no doubt already anticipating the coin and candy that would be waiting for him as a reward when he returned. The candies were mint-flavored and, Katherine had confided after Bonnie saw her slip the siblings the same candy a number of times, made the two young Bennetts smell significantly less appetizing to the vampire.

Bonnie looked around the small circle of women. Katherine and Pearl tittered easily with Jessa Forbes, as if they did not consider her to be an easy meal. Pearl's daughter, Annabelle, sat nearby, with her face hidden by her long hair as she diligently embroidered a piece so complicated it made Bonnie's eyes hurt. Anna hadn't said a word since she and Pearl had arrived, even when the ladies cooed over her neat stitches. Bonnie sat between Honoria and Rachel Fell, nervously keeping up a conversation about the recent turn in the weather. All three were relieved, since the hot summer heat had continued far into September. Its final breaking was so well received it nearly overshadowed the topic of the Founder's Ball. Nearly.

"So, Miss Bonnie, I hear congratulations are in order. You've managed to snag one of our most eligible bachelors as your date to our town's little party." Bonnie tamped down her alarm. She wasn't skilled at deception; she was always caught in her lie, even when she felt she'd pulled it off without a hitch. True, some of that came with hanging around lie-detecting vampires, but it didn't mean she was comfortable being put on the spot by nosy townswomen.

"Really? I didn't know that Mr. Lockwood was so sought after. His offer was very… unexpected."

"Yes, he is, very much so. Why, the only other contenders for the top title are the Salvatore brothers, and since neither of them is a sure thing, every girl in Mystic Falls has had their cap set on George Lockwood since they were small. He has never shown much interest in anyone. Except for you of course."

"I don't think he has any serious interest. I'm sure it's just curiosity at a new face around town."

"And what a face it is. So…untraditional in our circles." Bonnie winced outright. She'd wondered at the easy acceptance of her by the proud Confederate town, and quickly deduced that Katherine and Pearl had been liberal in their application of compulsion on the human citizens of Mystic Falls. Bonnie wasn't the only black member of the town's supernatural society. But as more and more of the humans wore, or regularly ingested, vervain the vampires couldn't renew the compulsion. For many in Mystic Falls, this particular compelled order went against their entire world view and, without the occasional top off, they were starting to notice that Bonnie and Harper should not be seated at their dinner tables.

That was why George Lockwood's offer to be her escort had been so surprising. Bonnie had nearly decided not to attend the ball at all. The entire town was tense, as both humans and vampires had been disappearing in the night. Bonnie knew that when one hunted hidden threats, it was easy to target those with obvious differences. She didn't want to be caught in the middle of a party when the torches and pitchforks came out. Plus, she wasn't relishing the thought of witnessing Stefan and Damon's fight over Katherine. She'd come to see all three of them as friends, and while it was clear that most of the blame lay with Katherine, neither of the brothers was completely innocent in the situation. Bonnie could see the seeds of the future in every interaction between the three now, and it made her heart ache.

"Have you known Mr. Lockwood and the Salvatores long?"

"Yes, my whole life, all of them. George's family's orchards are only separated from ours by the stream. We used to play there often as children." Bonnie caught Rachel's slip of George's first name, and her dreamy-eyed gaze, and she understood.

"That sounds lovely. I'm sure Mr. Lockwood has fond memories of that time with you as well. We should all talk about it at this weekend's party." Awkward? Yes. But Bonnie thought it served her purpose. She had no plans to stay here and marry George Lockwood, and the girl was clearly half in love with him already. She might as well do something good while she was here.

"I don't know," Rachel said. "He doesn't want to talk to me anymore. He thinks I'm still a child."

"He's barely older than you; I'm sure you're imagining things."

"It's only a few months that separate us, true, but he is so different lately. The war changed him, it has changed everyone, of course. But George…he's almost a different person. He was so angry before he left. He would fly off at the smallest of infractions against him. The anger is still there, but he wields it instead of it wielding him. Now, he is so much more confident and sure of himself. I just don't know how to talk to him anymore." Bonnie thought this was good news for the teenaged Lockwood she knew in the twenty-first century. Maybe being angry and idiotic was something all of them grew out of once they turned twenty?

Rachel Fell looked dejected thinking about the changes in her friend, though they all sounded like positive changes to Bonnie. Still, she decided to steer the conversation to a new subject and gather gossip for when she got home.

"What did you mean about the Salvatore brothers? When you said neither of them are a sure thing?" Rachel glanced at Katherine quickly before leaning in closer to Bonnie.

"Well, the Salvatore property is larger than any other in town, and both brothers would have been a fine match with each of them inheriting half the estate. But then their father made it known that he would be giving the plantation in its entirety to only one of them. While Damon is the eldest, and therefore the more conventional choice, their father has always favored Stefan, even before Damon became so wild." Not exactly the titillating secrets Bonnie had been hoping to share with Elena and Caroline on their first manicure night when she got back. Inheritance drama didn't go well with ice cream sundaes.

"So, no one wants to commit to them because they're not sure which one will inherit?" Bonnie wanted to curse their shallowness, but since women couldn't exactly go out and get their own job here, she couldn't really blame them for their shrewdness.

"It certainly made many of us girls wary at first, but it's much worse than that now." Rachel's voice fell to an even softer pitch. Bonnie knew Katherine and Pearl could still hear their conversation perfectly, but neither seemed interested in eavesdropping. Probably old news to them.

"Stefan and Damon pledged to share the inheritance between them equally, no matter what was written in the will, just as they had always shared all things," At this Rachel's side eye at Katherine gained more than a gleam of judgement and Bonnie had to hide her laugh in the handkerchief she was mangling. "And all of the town knew of the pledge fairly soon. But after Damon had a liaison with Regina Maxwell, his father decided to write him out of the will, permanently. But apparently he didn't want Stefan to get too comfortable, as he brought his _other_ son into the house."

"Damon and Stefan have another brother?" Rachel nodded; eyes wide.

"Yes, he's a bit younger than Stefan, but he was only brought into the house a few years ago. Giuseppe Salvatore insists that her mother was a barmaid at a tavern in Richmond, but Damon and George both think she was one of the housemaids he sold off that same year. It has caused quite the scandal in town, and everyone is rather hoping Stefan stays in his father's good graces for a long time yet." Satisfied at having scandalized Bonnie, Rachel returned to her project. Bonnie didn't much care about the outraged townspeople, but she was curious about the brother she'd never met.

"But I've never seen him. You said he was in the main house now?"

"Yes, I know he is. Though I doubt he feels very welcome, with Stefan and Damon acting as they do, and his father setting him up in the farthest wing from the family quarters. I'm surprised you've never seen him though. I thought he'd dine with everyone at least." Bonnie shrugged, ending the conversation with a demurral. She couldn't provide any new information to Rachel, as she had never even seen this other Salvatore. She didn't know his dinner habits; she had been skipping all of the dinners she could while Katherine had been laying the charm on thick when conversing with Giuseppe. He had started stocking up on the vervain tincture at the apothecary, and neither woman was sure if he suspected them.

Honoria left to scold the kitchen staff about their late tea. When her mother left the room, Rachel leaned closer to Bonnie as if revealing some great secret.

"I suppose I shouldn't gossip, but I need something to distract me from the state of things."

"Yes, I guess any gossip is happier than thinking about the war."

"Quite so. Though I never imagined the front would get so close or bring such terrors to our little town." Bonnie hummed in agreement without much thought. She wasn't exactly sympathetic to Rachel's hardships. A bit of rationing and fear were nothing compared to what the war-driving plantation owners, Rachel's family included, had put their slaves through. But then the witch grasped the meaning of Rachel's words and manner. This was not a wilting violet, fluttering over the lack of sugar in her tea or silks for new dresses. No, her pupils were blown, her breathing rapid, and her forehead dotted with perspiration. Her fingers were clutched in rigor over her needlepoint and she was wracked with a full body shiver. Rachel had not been exaggerating when she used the word terror; she was terrified.

Just the mention of said terrors had brought this to the surface, and now that Bonnie had noticed it, she saw it in each of the humans around the circle. Their fear lurked just under their skin, never really gone. All of these women were part of a founding family, and all of them knew what creatures prowled in the night on the dirt streets of Mystic Falls. But, Bonnie thought, glancing at the serene face of Pearl, and Katherine's thoughtlessly frustrated visage, not the creatures that lurked in their drawing rooms in the late morning sun.

Perhaps this is what would give the daywalkers away, more than any magical device. Fear sparked through the humans of Mystic Falls constantly. But even with the recent vampire disappearances that Pearl had expressed concern over, none of the vampires displayed that same ubiquitous dread.

"War has a habit of drawing out unsavory characters. I'm sure that once it is over, your town will return to its old sleepy peacefulness."

"These are not unsavory characters; this is far beyond that." Rachel seemed to be fishing, not very well, for Bonnie's confirmation of knowledge. But why would she think Bonnie would know anything? She couldn't suspect Bonnie to be a vampire herself, could she?

"I think you're right, Rachel. There is something almost inhuman about recent events here." Bonnie maintained eye contact, and placed emphasis on the word inhuman, hoping that would be enough. It seemed to be, as Rachel let out a relieved gust of air.

"I wasn't sure, but you always seem so nervous, and everyone knows you refuse to leave your room after the sun sets. I thought you must know." Her rambling ended with her clutching Bonnie's hand and a tremulous smile on her lips. Bonnie was rather shocked by the girl's knowledge of her, and her easy inclusion of Bonnie into her trust.

"But it will be over soon. My father isn't content to wait for General Lee to put everything right. He says that each man must fight his own battles. He and the rest of the council are taking back Mystic Falls, and soon." Out of the corner of her eye, Bonnie saw Katherine and Pearl begin to gather their things, engrossed in goodbyes and the subtleties of polite societal parting insults. Anna was already gone, probably to call the carriage. Bonnie rushed out her words, wanting answers before she had to leave.

"What? How?"

"Jonathan Gilbert has invented something to reveal the monsters among us. He has had many failures before, but my father said that this time is different. They'll show it to the rest of the council tonight, and we will all be safe once more." The Gilbert compass! Bonnie knew it had never worked previously; it relied on dubious science and Jonathan Gilbert's bad calculations. But she'd seen Emily's recent pining stares, and knew that the witch must have reached her breaking point with Pearl. She had finally enchanted Gilbert's inventions to work, just in time for the Founder's party.

"Thank you for letting me know, Rachel. But why did you?"

"I knew from out first meeting, Bonnie. I could trust you with anything." These last words had the ring of compulsion to them, and Bonnie discovered the source of Rachel's openness. She pushed aside her nausea, said goodbye, and gathered her things to go.

After they exited the house, Katherine and Pearl abandoned Bonnie to a rather dull walk home with a reticent Anna. Bonnie didn't know why Pearl hunted separately from her daughter, and she didn't care to ask. Anna had never been her friend, or even a passing ally as Damon had been in the future. Anna had manipulated Bonnie through Ben McKittrick, kidnapped her, and held both her and Elena captive. Bonnie hadn't had any time to feel real remorse for her death, though she knew it would hurt Jeremy Gilbert.

But Anna, really Annabelle here, was distinct from the other familiar faces for Bonnie, because she was the most altered. Damon and Stefan were humans, yes, and at times they didn't act the same because of a lack of experience and instinct. But they were still the same people.

Stefan wasn't her friend, but his voice still held the same earnest desire for approval. Now, it sought that approval from his father, Damon, and Katherine, but one day he would ask the same from Elena. He ate rabbit just as voraciously, although significantly more cooked. He still had a caring heart, despite his very limited world view, and abhorred the violence of the war even as he extolled the virtue of the honor and courage displayed by the Confederate soldiers.

Damon easily excused the violence and murder of Katherine, even before needing it to live himself. He was still heedlessly loyal and a glutton for punishment, as he continued to stay home despite his father's increasingly unkind words. He trusted Katherine with his life and heart, Bonnie with his secrets, and Stefan with his loyalty. Some might say this was because he hadn't been burned yet, but Bonnie could see that his heart was already scarred, even this early in life. And in the future, when his heart felt a century of cuts and bruising and betrayals, Damon would still take that leap of faith time and time again. He was more trusting than Bonnie.

Anna though, seemed a different person altogether. Bonnie knew she wasn't young even now. She thought Pearl and Anna's many shared years as vampires should bridge the two decades in human years between them easily. But it didn't. Annabelle remained timid, and looked to her mother for approval constantly. It was disturbing to see her so dependent and remember being at her mercy. Bonnie rather thought that the time without her mother had been good for Anna, even if the independence she learned was what led to Bonnie's own kidnapping.

"Do you and your mother always travel with Katherine?"

"No, they are good friends, but tend to aggravate each other incessantly with constant exposure. We have only stayed so long because the front is so close. It makes for easy hunting." While this logic made sense, Bonnie knew that the vampires did not travel to the battlefields often, and were instead sipping from the citizens of Mystic Falls. The disappearances had long been noticed. The more recent violently mauled bodies placed the entire local vampire community at risk.

"And you? Do you ever travel without Pearl?" Anna looked confused by Bonnie's question.

"We sometimes travel separately to throw pursuers off our trail. But we have never stayed separated for an extended period of time, if that's what you're asking." Centuries together as mother and daughter. Abby hadn't made it a single decade. Bonnie swallowed her bitterness, and tried to project curiosity into her voice, even though she just wants the conversation to end.

"Never? Don't you ever want to explore the world without her?"

"I could never leave her. She's my mother; she needs me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> blood of the covenant is thicker than water of the womb


	7. paved with good intentions

_Perhaps that's what all human relationships boil down to:_   
_Would you save my life? or would you take it?_   
_―Toni Morrison_

Bonnie missed her car. The walk into town had seemed like a good idea when she started out, but a dozen steps past the front gate regret overtook her. If she was in shorts and sneakers it might not have been so bad, but she wasn't. Instead, she walked in leather boots, stockings, and three layers of skirts that she wanted to set on fire. The only thing that kept her moving was the thought of what awaited her at the mansion if she turned back. She'd left Katherine and Emily with the Zhus, after she had told them all exactly what Rachel had revealed to her yesterday. The news of the council's plans and Jonathan Gilbert's newly operational device had shocked even Katherine from her languor. She'd begun to dig through her luggage, searching for something and muttering about contingency plans.

But Katherine had still refused to leave Mystic Falls. Even Pearl seemed reluctant, eyeing her daughter as if the girl really cared whether they stayed or moved on. Pearl had developed on her own plan. She would stop her idle flirting with the Gilbert inventor and take action. She planned to steal the compass to prevent herself and the other vampires from being discovered.

" _You should destroy it. Don't just steal it."_ Bonnie's own words had shocked her. Last night, she'd reaffirmed her promise to herself, that she wouldn't intervene in major events. She'd even given up her plans of matchmaking George Lockwood and Rachel Fell. After all, what if Rachel Fell was supposed to end up with Alexander Forbes and she doomed the entire Forbes line down to Caroline with her meddling?

Recounting Rachel Fells' words to the vampires, she had reasoned to herself, was not a major intervention. For one, she knew from 2010 that both women had been warned before the round-up began. Afterall, Pearl had stolen the Gilbert device and Katherine had escaped the tomb, so they must have known. Bonnie wasn't planning on adding any of her knowledge of the future to any plans they came up with. She wouldn't warn Katherine about Giuseppe Salvatore spiking Stefan's blood, and she wouldn't describe the compass to Pearl so she would swipe the right one.

Those words of advice had slipped out though, despite Bonnie's resolution. Bonnie knew that Pearl would be taking the device, not the compass. Pearl would still be revealed and would still be imprisoned in the tomb. Destroying the device wouldn't change anything until the 21st century. If she had destroyed the device, and had nothing to hand over to Damon, there would be no device for Bonnie to lie about de-spelling. They would have to deal with the tomb vampires themselves, with no faceless deputies to round the convulsing vampires up for them, but Bonnie was confident in Damon's fighting skills and her own powers. She didn't need a mass torture tool that would affect all of them. They could be more discerning. Bonnie thought guiltily of Harper, who always made sure she felt included at supernatural and mundane gatherings, and Cordelia, who actually did go out to the battlefield to feed because she didn't want to kill innocents. Caroline wasn't the only person who had suffered from her inaction.

But Pearl had shaken her head. _"If humans have discovered a way to reveal us, even with our daylight rings, we need to find out what this science is. If we cannot counter it, we need to understand it."_ Bonnie had opened her mouth to protest but caught sight of Emily at the edge of the room.

" _Just think about it."_ Bonnie said and didn't press the issue further. She couldn't betray her ancestor by telling them the truth, that Jonathan Gilbert's devices ran on magic, and not science. The past would stay the past, and Bonnie would live knowing that she'd killed twenty-seven people.

So Bonnie didn't want to go back to their planning, because watching them forced her to feel the guilt for her actions in the future, compounded with her guilt for not doing all she could prevent the foundations for them being laid here. She'd seized the opportunity to leave and head to town on her own small assignment.

The dull drudgery of her walk was broken by the sight of a figure on horseback galloping towards her. The fact that Bonnie was excited just by the sight of another person highlighted how boring the past was. Scary and harrowing, yes, but also boring. She didn't have school, or cheer practice, or hours of wasted time on YouTube. The lack of electric lighting limited reading to the daytime, and Bonnie had long grown tired of pricking her fingers with her attempts at sewing. Meeting another person could be the day's highpoint, especially someone new. It could also be a significant low point, if they hadn't come in contact with anti-racism compulsion yet, but Bonnie wasn't trying to dwell on the negatives here.

As they got closer, Bonnie recognized the horse and her rider. Damon's wide smile at the sight of her dispelled any chance of disappointment rising within her at the sight of such a familiar face.

"Bonnie! On you way to town?" He asked as he swung off his horse.

"Yes, but I think you were going the opposite way." She answered as he fell into step beside her, leading Amber along with her head between them.

"I was. But you can hardly blame me for turning around when I have the chance to keep you company."

"I'll try not to, but don't you have anything you're meant to be doing?"

"The only thing waiting for me at home is my father's disappointed face, whether I make it there in ten minutes or ten hours. Don't subject me to that so soon."

"You're ridiculous."

"Ridiculously handsome you mean. I can't disagree. I've been blessed." Bonnie laughed. He came by his vanity honestly at least.

"Yes, thank you for deigning to even be seen in my presence as I run my lowly errands." Damon waved away her mock curtsy, like she shouldn't even think of his many sacrifices.

"And what lowly errands would those be? Picking up a new dress? Katherine's second wardrobe didn't provide a frilly enough concoction for the esteemed George Lockwood's date?"

"Don't be mean, you two are friends—"

"Hardly." Damon snorted, but Bonnie ignored him.

"But no new dresses for me. Just picking up some things."

"Things? How intriguingly vague. Now I have to come along. It's my duty as Stefan's brother to watch out for those he deems suspicious characters."

"Ah, but you coming with me is just giving me more credibility. The town won't even know the danger they have in their midst."

"Yes…this town is singularly ignorant of dangers in their midst."

"Subtle."

"I try, Bonnie. So where to first?"

Bonnie led him through the street to her destination. The main town square looked eerily similar to how it would in a century, and Bonnie couldn't help the double take at the bustling apothecary housed in the same building as Dr. Grayson's now-burnt-out abandoned practice. But that wasn't where they were heading. On the next block over, standing tall in the place of the Mystic Grill, was the town's general store. Owned and operated by the Smallwoods, some odd down-on-their-luck offshoot of the Lockwoods, the store acted as a town center. Everyone went there for everything, and an enterprising Smallwood had converted a quarter of the store into a tea shop. Society matrons and servants could sip on tea all day, gathering gossip to report back to their households.

The store also sold the newly-appeared vervain tincture.

Damon looked disappointed that she wasn't heading somewhere more exciting, but Bonnie doubted there was anything in Mystic Falls that would actually fall under that category. Considering the Mystic Grill acted as the social spot for townspeople aged five to ninety in a hundred years, that was something that would never change.

Bonnie made her way to the shelves lined with the tincture. They were still well stocked despite the concoction being sold at a steeply discounted price. Palming a bottle, she considered it. Buying it wouldn't actually show that much. Pearl handled the bottles everyday when she sold them in the apothecary. Bonnie needed to really dispel any rumors. With a shrug, Bonnie cracked the wax seal and took a deep swig. It tasted vile, a mix of alcohol and herbs, but Bonnie made sure not to even let a single eye twitch escape.

"Looks delicious." Damon snarked, so she might not have hidden her distaste as well as she would have liked. Still, the eyes on them belonged to others who had tasted the tincture; they would know exactly how bad it tasted.

Damon looked amused, like he was watching a ten year old regret taking a sip of her mother's wine. Bonnie narrowed her eyes, both at his amusement and at the titters coming from the society types nearby. She could see one woman she thought was Jonathan Gilbert's sister, sitting with Honoria Fell's main rival for top societal matriarch: Beatrice Maxwell. The latter was glaring at Damon. Did she suspect him as a vampire?

Bonnie thrust the bottle at him. "Well, why don't you see how you like it?"

He gamely took the bottle and took a sip for himself. Damon licked the rim of the bottle as he pulled it away, erasing the overlapping prints left by their lips. He winked, and Bonnie's stomach flipped.

"Drinking straight from the bottle and sharing with a man. Now, Miss McCullough, what would your mother say?"

"Probably that I could have picked a better man."

"Oh, you wound me Bonnie. And here I was going to the gentlemanly thing and pay for your medicine."

"Don't let me keep you from performing your one good act of the day. Besides, you took a dose too. It's as much your medicine as mine." She answered.

"So it was all a ploy to get me to pay? What a spendthrift you are. Now I know you're after my father's heart and not my own. You can count your pinched pennies together every night while I stand out in the cold."

"I doubt you'll have many cold nights, Damon. You're much too charming. Now hand over the tincture or I really will make you pay for it." Actually, she would be putting it on Katherine's tab which, now that she thought about it, probably came from the Salvatores anyway.

"Ah, ah, ah." He said, holding it out of her reach. "If you make me do it, it hardly counts as a good deed. Why don't you grab a seat? I'll order us a pot while we're here. I'll be right back." He loped off, bottle in hand, towards the front counter.

Bonnie sat at a table. The steaming pot of tea arrived before Damon did. The tea was still steeping, and Bonnie had to interlace her fingers to prevent her hand from reaching out and checking it's progress every thirty seconds. She peeked over her shoulder. Damon, it seemed, had been caught up in conversation with a young man in a bowler hat. Damon glanced over to her and their eyes met. He smiled, and Bonnie saw the other man's eyes turn towards her as well. She quickly faced forward again, but her ears strained to hear their conversation across the shop. A much closer conversation caught her attention first.

"Absolutely shameless, it's disgusting." That was Mrs. Maxwell.

"They have been particularly…blatant." And the Gilbert sister. Bonnie struggled to remember her name. Lara? Or was it Geraldine?

"And right under Giuseppe's nose. In his own house! Though I would guess the rot starts with him, considering that other boy of his."

"Stefan? Don't tell me he is caught up in this too!"

Bonnie almost smacked her own forehead. How oblivious could this woman be? Was Stefan caught up with Katherine? Yes, duh! Her moment of amused distraction cost her a few seconds of the women's conversation, but she tuned back in quickly as their voices gained more vehemence.

"—bad enough when it's contained to their quarters, but in such a public forum! Like some sort of respectable lady."

"It's just wrong. How can he bear it? It'd be like kissing an animal."

Bonnie's spine stiffened. She'd not given much thought to how humans thought of vampires, as she'd mostly been focusing on the opposite.

"Truly! Even that dress can't mask the truth; I can't imagine what the young Lockwood is thinking. What do you think, Bea? Does the McCullough tart more resemble an ox or an ape?"

Bonnie felt numb. The realization that they weren't speaking about Katherine sleeping with both Salvatore brothers washed over her. They were talking about her, and calling her an animal. Bonnie stood up, but had to grab the table to keep steady. Her head swam with dizziness. She tried to shake it off.

"Bonnie? Are you alright?" Damon had finally pulled himself away from whatever conversation had been keeping him, and was now looking down at her, concerned. The two women had stopped speaking, but didn't look chagrined in the least, even though it must have been obvious that Bonnie had overheard them.

A spike of anger shot through Bonnie's spine. At the women, and at the world that told them their beliefs were justified. She'd allowed herself to forget where she was, and who she was. She'd allowed the compulsion to lull her into some weird fantasy; where she could live in this world, with her skin, and it would let her.

"Bonnie? Was there something wrong with the tea?"

"Fuck the tea. We're leaving." Bonnie said. She pushed past him and headed for the door. She could hear him following behind, weaving through the shelves, but she didn't look back. Once she was outside the shop, she counted backwards from ten, trying to control both her anger and panic. What was she doing here? She had to get home.

She felt calmer and looked up from the cobbled pavement. Her eyes locked with Beatrice Maxwell's through the window. The woman smirked, looked away dismissively, and poured herself a fresh cup of tea. Bonnie continued watching, staring intently at the woman's cup. The old woman screamed when she took a sip of the suddenly boiling tea, and dropped the rest down the front of her blouse. Bonnie allowed one side of her mouth to quirk up in appreciation at the sight, before she turned back to Damon's anxious face.

"It's too hot for tea, and I'm done anyway. Let's get back."

"Right," Damon said, drawing out the first syllable, "I'll let this slide, but we're not going back. Follow me."

"What? Where are we going?"

"I'm cheering you up. Don't make me ruin the surprise!" He tossed over his shoulder as he walked away.

He led her down a narrow street jutting away from the square. Bonnie was pretty sure in 2010 her dentist was somewhere around here, but the buildings were unrecognizable. Damon stopped in front of a particularly shabby establishment.

"A bar? That's where you're taking me?"

"Always ready to think the worst of me, Bonnie. Yes, this is a bar; but no, we will not be going in." He knocked on the shuttered window Bonnie hadn't noticed, and it opened outwards.

"Gregory, good to see you're still in business. Two of the specials, if you could."

"That'll be three hundred." Damon nodded and lay down some bills, which Gregory quickly squirrelled away before closing the shutters again.

"Three hundred dollars for a couple of drinks? Isn't that a bit much?"

"I didn't bring you here for drinks Bonnie, I wouldn't subject you to that. No, you are about to taste the best secret in Mystic Falls."

"More like the most expensive secret."

"Expensive? Maybe compared to a few years ago, but the greybacks mean nothing now. That pot of tea you left behind was five hundred dollars alone."

Damon laughed at Bonnie's shocked face.

"Every time I think that Stefan might actually be right, you remind me of the impossibility with your complete ignorance." Bonnie's mouth snapped shut and she narrowed her eyes.

"What are you talking about?"

"You know, Stefan's little pet theory about you being an agent of espionage."

"I thought you were joking earlier! He really hasn't dropped that yet?"

"No, he mostly has, but every so often I learn something new about you that fits the mold."

"Such as?"

"You're intelligent, well-read, and a surprisingly good chess player."

"Is chess a crime?"

"No, but playing and winning against my father is enough for me to take note." Bonnie hadn't had a very hard time beating the Salvatore patriarch at the strategy game, but she'd attributed it more to him underestimating her than any skill on her part.

"But you also make friends easily, ensuring you have powerful allies in any situation," Which may have more to do with the compulsion than anything Bonnie did or said, "you're a fine horsewoman, and apparently, a skilled seductress."

"Wait what?" Bonnie interrupted. Damon had paused, anticipating that she would do so. "I'm not some kind of honeypot here to seduce your secrets from you!"

"Honeypot? I was only referring to your good looks and date-catching skills. Whatever, the point is this; even though you have a number of suspicious characteristics, you're too ignorant of basic knowledge to be an effective spy. You don't even know how much Confederate money is worth. Which right now, by the way, is practically nothing."

Gregory came back before she could argue further, slamming open the window and thrusting his hands forward. In each he held a cup made of layers of newspaper, coated in wax. The little dishes held something that Bonnie had missed desperately.

"Ice cream!" She snagged one of the cups and pushed the thin wooden spoon into the cold treat. It was delicious, ice cold, and creamy. Not exactly Ben and Jerrys, but sweet enough for Bonnie not to care. Bonnie ate another spoonful quickly, not willing to sacrifice any of the bowl to the heat.

Damon took his more slowly, and thanked Gregory before leading Bonnie away. She followed along mindlessly, enraptured with her ice cream.

"Do you like it?" Bonnie looked up from her dish, spoon halfway to her mouth. Damon had brought her back to the square and led her to a bench so they could sit. Bonnie took her waiting bite of ice cream and savored it before answering.

"Yes, I like it a lot. Thank you, Damon. Ice cream was definitely on my top ten list of things I missed from home."

"Well, tell me the rest of them, maybe I can find them here for you too." Bonnie thought of her Prius, the internet, and the sweet Thai chili wings she ordered by the dozen after cheer competitions.

"I don't think Mystic Falls has anything else on my list, but thanks for the offer."

"Come on, just one more." Damon wheedled. "Unless it's not a list of somethings, but of someones?"

Bonnie started guiltily. The list she'd unintentionally started compiling at his question had included modern comforts, some civil liberties, and a general sense of belonging, but she hadn't thought to add her friends and family to it. Was that because they were so important they didn't fit on her arbitrary list? Or was she becoming complacent in this time, happy with new friends and adventures? Bonnie shook herself. No, it was just too painful to think of her friends. She should linger on easy things, like Netflix, and not on Caroline, holding on for her life in her hospital bed.

"No, no people. Not that kind of list."

"You don't have family? Or a special…person in your life? A fiancé maybe?" Bonnie snorted, caught off guard. She'd been so focused on the guilt of forgetting her friends that she'd lost sight of Damon's goal in questioning her.

"Did George Lockwood put you up to this? Or Katherine? You can tell them both I'm unattached, and there's no family to whisk me back home anytime soon."

"But you want to? Go back, I mean." Bonnie's attempt at levity had failed; Damon's question was serious and his eyes intent. Bonnie looked back at her dish, half of which was now a white pool of melted cream.

"Yes. I want to go home. But I can't. Emily and I have been trying to figure out a way, but it's too dangerous." The two Bennetts had put their heads together to try and figure out a way to send Bonnie back, but the jump was just too big. Emily continued to be amazed Bonnie had arrived alive at all. They'd run through dozens of possible solutions and discarded just as many. Just before Bonnie had shared the news about the Gilbert device, Emily had mentioned the comet as a power source, but Bonnie knew she would need that for the tomb protection spell, so wasn't holding her breath.

"Well, maybe I can help. Once I'm a," He lowered his voice to a whisper and leaned in for the next word, "vampire, I'll be able to handle anything on the road that gets in your way no problem. You'll just have to stick around a little longer."

"Sure, you, me, and Katherine; travel buddies on the Great American Road Trip."

"Oh. Of course, Katherine would be good protection too." He agreed.

Bonnie mixed her melted ice cream miserably before answering.

"Doesn't matter, neither of you will make a difference. A road I could handle myself, but Emily thinks there's something here that I'm supposed to do first, and that I can't leave until I do that."

"Maybe she's right."

"No, this was all a big accident. I was never meant to be here in the first place, let alone fulfill some part for the greater universe."

"Just because you weren't meant to be doesn't mean you weren't needed." Damon said softly.

Bonnie stared, not sure she understood what he was saying.

"Damon, I—" She cut herself off, wanting to think more before she said anything else.

He read the indecision on her face, and his expression closed itself off.

"Right, well." He pushed back his hair, straightening the disorderly curls. He smiled at her, but it was empty of the laughter it had held just a few minutes ago. "You wanted to go back, I've distracted you enough." He took away their empty ice cream dishes before heading back towards the general store they'd started at. Amber, his horse, was still tied to the post they'd left her at.

Without a word he gave her a leg up. Bonnie expected him to swing into the saddle behind her, but he walked ahead of the horse, using the reins as a lead. A new barrier had been erected between them. Bonnie wasn't sure which of them had started building it, and she didn't know how to tear it down, but she wanted it gone. She already missed him and the way it was so easy to talk to him.

Bonnie caught the glares of Beatrice Maxwell and the Gilbert woman before she turned away. To Bonnie it felt like hours had passed since she'd left the store, but the two women were still inside, drinking their tea. Amber walked on, and Bonnie turned away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the road to hell is paved with good intentions


	8. fortune favors

_Our moral responsibility is not to stop the future,  
but to shape it. To channel our destiny  
in humane directions and to ease the trauma of transition.  
—Alvin Toffler_

Despite their limited technology and budget, the socialites of 1864 Mystic Falls had managed to put together a lovely party. The September air was cool but the candles that burned within the dancehall, and the bodies that filled it, kept the main room pleasantly warm.

Bonnie had danced a single dance with George Lockwood before he'd left her at an empty table ostensibly to get her a glass of punch. At first, Bonnie had been grateful. She was very thirsty, plus she wasn't used to dancing in a corset and needed the break. Breathing required much more focus than she would have thought. But it had been nearly half an hour, her date was still gone, and her table was no longer empty. Bonnie was not feeling grateful anymore.

"—none of them even like each other anyway, they're all pretending—" Bonnie zoned out again. Damon still hadn't asked for her input in the conversation he was carrying on by himself.

When Damon had sat down, she thought he might annoy her, ask her for a dance, or even tease her about her date's abandonment. He had been determinately light-hearted since their ice cream not-date, even in the carriage on the way to the party. But his good mood was gone, and instead of any of those expected actions, he brooded at her. Well, he brooded at Katherine and Stefan, who hadn't left each other's arms or the dancefloor since the music started, while sitting next to her. But he did it loudly, complaining to her about everything and everyone in the vicinity without taking his eyes off the pair.

Bonnie was viscerally reminded of the many times she sat with Matt last year in the Grill, or at a bonfire, or a dance, listening to him nurse his wounds over Elena. She'd tried to comfort Matt, because he was hurt and her friend, but she didn't want to do the same for Damon.

Bonnie didn't know if her refusal to be sympathetic was because she knew how this ended, or if she was just tired of being the girl who sat at the edge of the dancefloor and comforted her friend's spurned lovers. She knew that she wasn't going to sit and listen to him or try to soothe his heartbreak. Something burned in her stomach, angry at Katherine, at Damon, at George, and at Stefan. But mostly angry at herself for travelling more than a hundred years through time and still falling into the same role.

"Damon, can you shut up? I don't care if you don't like the food, or the people, or that they cut you off after two drinks. I don't even care about the real reason you're in such a bad mood. Katherine chose to come here with Stefan, and she's choosing to dance with him. You can't force her to change her mind, so if you just accept it, you'll save yourself a lot of pain, and save me from the headache I'm getting from listening to you complain."

"Here I thought we could commiserate together. I saw you and thought, gee Bonnie doesn't look like she's having a good time sitting by herself, why don't I go and keep her company? But if this is the thanks I get for my rescue, I—"

"Not much of a rescue if all you do is complain. Not exactly the way to show a lady a good time, is it?"

"Maybe I'm not inclined to show a lady who rejected me a good time? This all would have been different if we'd gone to this shindig together you know?" He gestured with his glass, now only filled with water, between the two of them.

"I'm pretty sure it would have gone exactly like this. You, moping about Katherine choosing your brother, and me, forced to listen. At least now I can leave you alone or hold out hope that George will come rescue me with another dance."

"Pff. You don't want to dance with him. He's a tool."

"Doesn't change my point."

"I'm just bringing a new point into the conversation. George Lockwood is a tool."

Bonnie rolled her eyes, but Damon continued.

"But since you're so hot to stay on topic, I do think this night would have been different if we'd come as a pair. For one, I would have been entitled to your drink vouchers, so I would be doubly lubricated," Bonnie laughed in disbelief. Damon's face became serious, and he stared at her head on. "And secondly, I would never have left you alone at this table, vulnerable to any man who decided to come over and try his hand at seducing you."

"Is that what this is, a seduction? I thought that was my job."

"No Bonnie, if I were trying to seduce you, you would definitely know it. And remember, in this scenario you aren't alone at the table."

"Where am I? Fetching you another drink with one of _my_ drink vouchers?"

"Mmm maybe, but I think we'd be on the dance floor, showing these small towners how it's done."

"And how would you dance? You'd be tripping over your feet while staring at your brothers date."

"Ah-ah-ah Bonnie dear. If you have to look at your feet while you dance, you're not very good. And I am very good. But don't worry, I promise to make up for all of your deficiencies. No one will even notice you stepping on my toes."

"I notice you didn't deny you would be staring at Katherine."

"Bonnie, I promise, if you dance with me, I will only be looking at you." He smiled close-lipped but earnestly, before standing and extending his hand towards her. It stayed there, hanging in the air as Bonnie stared at it. She'd been prepared for a hypothetical, not an actual offer. She met his gaze, before quickly dropping her eyes to his hand again.

"Please, Miss McCullough, will you do me the sincere honor of taking a turn on the dance floor with me?" His mocking and overly formal language broke her from her trance. He wasn't being serious, and Bonnie soothed her unsettled nerves.

"It would be my pleasure, Mr. Salvatore." She slipped her hand into his, and stood, allowing him to lead her to the edge of the dance floor just as the last notes of the song died.

The dances had gotten simpler as the night went on, with less partner switching and line reels. Bonnie breathed a sigh of relief when the first strains of a waltz rang out. She'd muddled her way through that first complicated reel with George, but more than one man had ended up with squashed toes as she forgot which way the circle turned.

Her relief was stolen from her when she realized that this meant having to waltz with Damon Salvatore. She placed her hand in his above their shoulders, and the other at his shoulder blade. True to his word, his eyes never left her. His palm felt like a hot coal, burning through her dress at the small of her back. They'd only ever stood this close when they were at odds with each other in the future. The heat was still there, as it always was, but it didn't stem from anger, fear, or desperation. Bonnie swallowed; her throat felt dry.

Determined to break the sudden tension she felt, Bonnie smiled up at him.

"Well, Mr. Salvatore. We must talk while we dance. It's a rule."

"And what should we talk about? Books? Perhaps Austen?"

"Books? No, I'm sure we haven't read the same ones." She laughed, tripped once over her own right foot, but was smoothly corrected by Damon. Bonnie doubted any onlooker even noticed. "Tell me something about you. Something I don't know."

"I've left the army, the Confederacy. I told father and Stefan already. They've…accepted my decision. But I wanted to tell you personally, because of the conversation we had about it. And about the future."

"You can just leave? Is that allowed?"

"Nope!" Damon grinned. "I'm officially a deserter. But they've got some bigger things to worry about right now, with Sherman burning his way through the South and Lee being routed at every turn. They won't come after little old me for a long time yet. Hopefully, they'll have lost disastrously before that time comes, but don't let anyone in this room hear me say that. They'll take away the one drink voucher I have left."

Bonnie smiled widely up at him. And Damon didn't hesitate in responding with his own grin. The weight of the night had dissipated, at least momentarily. Damon twisted one arm, sending Bonnie into a twirl, before pulling her back in, closer than before.

"Are you proud of me, Bonnie?" His eyes sparkled, and sarcasm was laid thickly over his words, but Bonnie could tell that this was not the shallow question he wanted to play it off as.

"Yes, Damon, I really am. I'm proud of you, and happy for you. You made the decision that you thought was right, for yourself and your own morals."

"My own sanity more like it. But as long as you're here to steer me right, I'm sure I can maintain this good guy façade for a long time."

Bonnie's smile lessened slightly but didn't dissipate completely.

"And what about when I'm gone?" She asked.

"Well I can't very well keep it up without my captive and appreciative audience, now can I? And it's not like Katherine would appreciate the upstanding man you're trying to mold me into. She enjoys my darker impulses." He finished with a wink and a smirk, channeling his eternal stud persona straight from the twenty-first century.

"I'm not trying to mold you into anyone, Damon. You should live for yourself, and make the choices that you can be proud of. Every day we choose who we are going to be. Every day. And you can choose to be who you think Katherine wants, or to be who you think I want to be friends with, or who would most impress El-any one else you might meet. But the only person who will always have to face the consequences, who will have to live with you and what you've done, is you."

Bonnie bit her lip, unsure if she could continue. Damon looked contemplative, but didn't speak.

"Damon, I'm happy to be an appreciative audience to your good choices while we're together, and I won't be afraid to call you out for things I think are wrong. But you can't use someone else as your moral compass. And you don't need to. You wanted to leave the Confederate army long before you did, it really had nothing to do with me. You can be a good man. You just have to choose it."

"And if I don't choose it?" Damon asked quietly. They continued to spin in circles around the floor.

Bonnie thought about Stefan and Elena's devotion to Damon. Bonnie had always thought it was absurd. He was a murderer and an asshole, and he was transparently trying to undermine their relationship. But they had begged her to save his life. Elena had claimed they were friends, that there was more to him than the face he showed the world.

She thought about Stefan, happily helping make dinner, playing chess with her, and handing over a grimoire he'd found in the Salvatore Boarding House. She thought about Vicki, so troubled as a human, and no different as a vampire. Anna who really cared about Jeremy, and Pearl who would turn away from revenge just so her daughter would smile.

Bonnie thought of Caroline, weak and broken because of Bonnie, a human witch's actions. Bonnie and Elena had access to the tremendous healing properties of vampire blood, but Bonnie hadn't trusted them, she'd trusted magic and her own inexperience to fix the problem. She'd been blind.

All vampires were once human, and they weren't humans anymore, but they were still people. They couldn't control what they were, but they could decide not to be monsters. And Bonnie could choose not to treat them like they already were.

"I'll stand against you if you try to hurt innocent people or harm the people I love. But I'd prefer it if we weren't enemies."

Damon looked concerned.

"I didn't know we were in danger of becoming enemies, Bonnie, and I have no plans to hurt Katherine or Emily."

"The life of a vampire is a long one Damon, and since you're determined to become one, I thought I would let you know where I stand. And I have more friends than just the ones we share."

"And you think I'll meet them?" Bonnie snorted.

"Pretty sure, yeah." Damon smiled widely at her derision.

"That means you plan on us being friends, and you introducing me to yours, in the future. I can't wait to be turned and leave this small town behind. Tell me about your friends—are they all in Boston?"

"You'll manage to push your way into their lives without any introduction from me. Wait, Boston?"

"That's where you're from, right? I think Katherine will turn me soon. I've been trying to wear her down. I don't think she'll hold out another month. And then we'll get you home, like I offered." His question brought her up short. Damon thought she was just a human who knew about vampires who came from Boston to visit Katherine. When he said future, he meant a few months from now, not decades. Bonnie had forgotten her backstory. It had felt like he knew everything.

"Yeah Boston you're right. Damon can you promise me something?"

"Depends, what is it?"

Emily had hinted that she had an idea on how to send her back, and Bonnie figured they would try it out shortly, even if it meant hijacking the comet's power. She didn't want to face Stefan as he first descended into bloodlust, and she didn't know what she would say to Damon. Could she tell him the truth about Katherine? Would he believe her? And why had Katherine abandoned them in the first place? She'd shown no sign of tiring of them, and they weren't just blood sources to her.

Bonnie didn't know what kind of future she would be thrust back into, didn't know what her presence had changed, but she was looking forward to having indoor plumbing and air conditioning again.

"After you turn, we won't see each other for a while," Bonnie paused, unsure how she should phrase this. She had tried to travel to the past to make sure that she would remain ignorant about her powers, and about vampires. But she knew she didn't want that anymore. Her lessons with Emily had opened a new world to her, and her magic felt alive in a way she hadn't been able to feel in 2010. And was not knowing about vampires the key to happiness? Or would she just be in more danger?

"And when we do see each other again, I probably won't know you. It's a thing. But you're going to want something from me, and I won't want to give it to you. But I should. I know this doesn't make sense, but I need you to remember this. Be nice, convince me, don't just try to snatch it from my neck, okay?"

If she'd given Damon the crystal, the tomb would have been opened easily, the night of the comet. With Grams help, they could have reset the seal, trapping all of the vampires inside once Damon realized Katherine wasn't there. With the power of the comet, and the rules of Emily's original spell, it wouldn't drain as much from her or Grams. Damon just had to be charming.

"I know you can be convincing, so try that. Don't be creepy. And don't mess with my friends." That seemed like it should cover it. Bonnie didn't think it would be hard for Damon to convince her in the future. When he wasn't lurking or lusting after Elena, she'd thought he was hot and friendly. She remembered dinner at Elena's, and the stories he'd told in between heavy-handed hints about Katherine. He'd been captivating. His descriptions of Rome had made her ache to see the streets, to taste the pasta, to wander the cathedrals and catacombs herself.

She'd been jealous of Caroline, more so than she was of Elena, that night. Damon had none of the spooky-feeling attached to him, she hadn't touched him yet, and his smirks appealed to her more than Stefan's furrowed brows.

Of course, she soon learned that what Caroline and Damon had was nothing to be jealous over.

"I'm not sure I underst—" Bonnie shushed him.

"Just remember it. You'll understand when it happens. I don't want to talk about this anymore."

"Right," Damon drew out the word. "Good thing this song is ending then. We can finish up the dance with a conversation about how your date has finally appeared, and he's with Katherine." Bonnie's head snapped around. Sure enough, the pair was just coming through the door. What would Katherine want with George Lockwood?

The unlikely couple met Bonnie and Damon at the edge of the dancefloor. Damon tightened his hand over hers, trying to keep it in the crook of his elbow, but Bonnie slipped out of his grip.

"Thank you for keeping Damon occupied for me Bonnie, I was just coming to collect my dance with him. I'm sure your own date would be delighted to have your hand for the next one." Katherine grabbed Damon's elbow, and pulled him away. He turned back, giving her a toast with an invisible glass and a smile.

"To making our own destinies." Bonnie suppressed a grimace at Damon's farewell.

George stayed, standing across from her. He looked nervous, as if he had just received very bad news. Courtesy won out, and he held out his hand for her to take.

"Shall we?" Bonnie nodded wordlessly, taking his outstretched hand and joining the lines of dancers on the floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title from: fortune favors the bold  
> [Bonnie's dress for the Founder's Ball](https://cinqjours.tumblr.com/post/624675760495575040/ball-gown-american-1860s-the-met)
> 
> fun fact, the way that Damon uses the word tool is a very modern usage, like 21st c exclusive. I tried looking for an older word that held the same meaning, but fool just doesn't have the same connotations attached to it. One of the closest I could find in the OED (which has a great historical thesaurus tool) was peanut. It first appeared in writing in 1864, so historically it was perfect, but that doesn't hold the same meaning at all today, and it would have made no sense to readers, so tool stayed.
> 
> Also, don't think this was extensively researched. Sometimes when I'm writing I stop and look into things, but more often I just kind of hand-wave at it because this is a fanfiction with vampires and time travel.


	9. all that glitters

_There is no terror after the bang of the gun;  
only the anticipation in it.  
—Alfred Hitchcock_

Bonnie sat on a bench in the garden, her shawl wrapped tightly around her to ward off the wet chill of the darkness. She should be exhausted from the long night of dancing, and the stress of pretending to know what fork she was supposed to use, but she felt wide awake.

So instead of sleeping, she sat outside, listening to the crickets and the wind rustling through the carefully cultivated hedges. She would look an odd sight to most of Mystic Falls. A young girl, out alone at night. No one in 1864 travelled alone at night. Even their carriage home from the ball had merited an armed escort. But Bonnie was not defenseless, and any vampire who thought her easy prey would be quickly and painfully corrected.

Bonnie hummed to herself. First, a song that wouldn't be written for a century, but it gradually morphed into one of the tunes she'd danced to tonight. She'd had a good time, a great time. And it had certainly been more enjoyable than any of the Founder's celebrations she'd attended as a high schooler in the future. She'd always felt awkward, an outsider, and an unthought of one. It felt wrong to put on an old antebellum dress and celebrate a time when her ancestors probably dressed in rags. Recently Bonnie had avoided the parties altogether, whether a costume was required or not, and dodged Elena and Caroline's questions about it. They didn't understand, and they didn't really try to. The Founder's Celebration was 150 years old; it wasn't something to question, just like the statue of Robert E. Lee in the town square.

She never thought she'd be so comfortable in one of these gowns. But after living in them for weeks she mostly knew how to breathe, and how to move, in a hoop and corset. Each day, she forgot how restricted she was until her lungs expanded fully with the first deep breath after unlacing before bed. You can get used to anything.

"Miss McCullough?" Bonnie started. She'd been so lost in her head that she hadn't noticed the approach of another person. With no streetlights or passing cars, the night was pitch black. The moon and stars, while more visible than in 2010, still didn't cast enough light for Bonnie to make out the other's features. Still, she knew him.

"Mr. Salvatore. What are you doing out here?"

"I could ask the same of you. But, I think you can call me by my given name. We have shared a home for more than a fortnight."

"Well I'm obviously out here composing my dispatches to Washington. And you, Stefan?" He had the grace to look embarrassed over her reference to his early accusations. He'd never brought it up again, but he'd remained more distant than Katherine or his brother. Still, Bonnie remembered him saving her life in the future, and the friendship he had extended towards her despite her judgement, so her tone was joking and not condemning.

"Just thinking. I thought a walk might help me sort out my thoughts." Bonnie nodded in understanding. She was outside for much the same reasons.

"Feel free to join me if you'd like. There's plenty of room." She patted the space on the bench next to her, and Stefan took her invitation, tactfully ignored that this room was available because she wasn't dressed in layers of silk over a hoop, but only a thin nightdress and knit shawl.

They sat quietly beside each other for a few seconds before Stefan broke the silence.

"They're together right now, did you know? Damon and Katherine, I mean." Bonnie had watched Stefan kiss Katherine chastely at the foot of the stairs. It was sugary sweet, full of devotion, and everything a girl could have hoped for in an innocent teenage romance. And it was what Katherine wanted, it just wasn't all she wanted. And for everything else, it seemed she could have Damon.

"Yeah, I know." Her easy acceptance didn't shock him.

"I thought you probably knew. You probably knew before I did. You are her friend after all. But then, with how you look at Damon sometimes, I thought I should tell you. I wouldn't want anyone unknowingly getting involved in this. It's easy to get hurt."

Bonnie's first instinct was to deny his assumption. What could he be seeing in how she looked at Damon? But maybe the easy banter they fell into could be misconstrued, or his faux flirting taken at face value. Or maybe Stefan had seen the desperate trust on her face as she begged his brother to change the future during their dance, when he didn't even know the future that would be changed. But none of those feelings were ones like Stefan was suggesting.

"It's not like that. I'm not going to get hurt." She assured him.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure. This is not a fight I would ever enter Stefan, even if I wanted to, because I know it isn't one I have a chance at winning."

Bonnie had taken one look at the spark in Elena's eyes the first time she saw Stefan, and had let go of any desire to see the face that went with his hot back. Here, she'd arrived after Katherine had already sunk her teeth, figuratively and literally, deep into both brothers. She'd told Caroline it wasn't a competition, and she wasn't lying. But it wasn't a competition because Bonnie never let it become one.

"Do you think I have a chance? At winning?" Stefan interrupted her internal musing.

"Is that what you want? To win?"

"Sometimes I think I shouldn't. That what she is should make a difference to me, or the lives she takes. That her taking my brother into her bed means that she doesn't love me, and I should let her go. But the greater part of me still loves her, knows that my feelings remain unchanged from before she was a vampire. And truthfully, competing with Damon encourages, more than it detracts from, the appeal. To win means to be with the woman I love, for eternity, and to be declared the better brother. It's a hard prize to resist."

Bonnie didn't know how much of his words were driven by love, and how much by compulsion. It was hard to tell, had Katherine ordered him to love her? Or only not to fear her?

"Have you and Damon always been competitive?"

"Our father encouraged it. Despite the age difference, he found things we were comparable at and drove us to be better. But…" He trailed off. Bonnie let the silence linger for a full minute before prompting him from his thoughts.

"But?"

"But he's been having a harder time setting up the competition. Even before he told Damon that he would never see a cent after his death, the fight had gone out of Damon. He'd given up, started fighting my battles with me instead of standing in opposition. That's when my father called for Alessandro."

"Alessandro?" Bonnie was imagining a particularly harsh tutor, before she remembered Stefan's far-away look when she asked him for the bloodstone. He'd seemed fond of his younger brother, so despite Rachel Fell's gossip she didn't expect his contemptuous tone.

"Our younger brother. Our father's final insult to our mother. If neither of us live up to his expectations, his bastard will inherit everything. Ha! As if that will happen. The boy isn't even going to make it to the end of the year, let alone out live our father."

He caught her questioning look.

"Alessandro's sick. That's why his rooms are in the other end of the house. Father is terrified of catching it. Too sick to even get out of bed now, which makes him another failure of father's at driving Damon and I to be better. I think that's why he first let Katherine stay with us; something to fight over. He's not usually the type to take pity on war orphans."

Bonnie thought of Giuseppe Salvatore, so charming and sharp at sudden turns. Was he the catalyst for this century-long love triangle?

"What if Katherine didn't want either of you? What if she chose someone else? Or decided she's done with romance for this decade?" Stefan searched her face, looking to see if she was posing more than a simple hypothetical.

"Katherine loves me. She might love Damon as well, or maybe his blood just tastes better, I don't know. But I don't think there is a future where she doesn't choose me. I can't think that."

"What if she didn't have the choice?" She asked and Stefan's tone became strident.

"Nothing is going to happen to her. I'll protect her from the council. We'll leave. They won't care once we leave Mystic Falls." Bonnie knew that Stefan couldn't protect Katherine from the council, that he wouldn't make it out of Mystic Falls alive, but she said nothing. How did you let your barely friendly housemate know that his cheating girlfriend would abandon him without a word? You couldn't. So Bonnie offered what she always did.

"Just let me know if you need any help."

* * *

"You can do it; I know you can." Ruthie concentrated on the flame Bonnie had cupped in her hand, but it barely flickered. She'd been trying to make it flare for the past half hour but hadn't been able to affect it at all. Holding it steady was starting to tire Bonnie. Sparking the fire had barely taken a thought but keeping it lit, with only her own magic as fuel, took real effort. Emily had claimed it would strengthen her focus and help Ruthie so Bonnie kept it up as the younger witch struggled to gain control over it.

The six-year-old screwed up her face in concentration. Bonnie was tempted to push for a flare herself, just so the little girl would breath again, but she knew Ruthie wouldn't be fooled. Suddenly, the young Bennett's held breath escaped her in a whoosh.

"I'll never get it! It's impossible!" Ruthie said crossing her arms in frustration. Bonnie tried not to laugh at how cute she looked; it would only make her more upset.

"Well why don't we figure out why it's impossible. What's your affinity? When your mom pointed out mine it completely changed my limitations and expectations. Is yours water? Maybe it's an opposite thing?"

Bonnie didn't think she was qualified to be mentoring or teaching Emily's daughter a thing, despite having more than a decade on Ruthie.

When they were alone the Bennetts used magic as easily as breathing. Ingredients floated around the kitchen as Emily cooked, and Sebastian could tell you the exact number of times a book contained any word, and on which pages. Ruthie, despite her young age, was no different. She loved to make flower petals dance around her, much like Bonnie had with feathers when she first discovered magic. But when Ruthie turned her puppy eyes on Bonnie, and Emily backed her daughter's request, she couldn't say no. Now Bonnie just had to pretend she knew what she was doing.

"No, not water. I'm not like you and Mama." Not an elemental affinity then. Bonnie didn't have any other ideas from her rudimentary magic lessons. Her magic felt stronger, but that had more to do with knowing her affinity and her raised confidence levels. Maybe Ruthie's issue was something psychological?

"Why do you want to control flames at all? Your mom said you're very advanced for your age. I'm the one who needs to catch up to you; no need for you to focus on the only area of magic where I have you beat." Ruthie giggled at Bonnie's teasing, but that didn't mean it wasn't true. Bonnie had improved by leaps and bounds since she'd arrived in the past, but Ruthie seemed to know everything Bonnie was taught, and had easily explained things that Emily struggled to articulate. If the girl wasn't so cute it would have been creepy.

"The ladies said it's important to know. None of them were like you." A chill crept up Bonnie's spine.

"What? Who are the ladies? Who have you been talking to Ruth?" Bonnie questioned. Ruthie shifted awkwardly.

"I'm not supposed to tell anybody, but they said it would stop the nightmares." Bonnie did not like the sound of random women dispensing advice to her ancestor. The flame hovering over Bonnie's palm stuttered and then went out. She had to focus on Ruthie, not the magic.

"You can tell me, Ruthie. I just want to help you, okay? Who told you that you needed to master fire magic?"

"The nice ladies from the house. Mama said I should only ask for their help if things are going very very wrong. And I don't! I swear! They just talk to me. They help me with stuff." Bonnie very carefully did not ask what stuff the girl had gotten help with, or what situation, exactly, Emily deemed very very wrong.

"What house?"

"The old one in the woods. They're trapped there, but I'm gonna free them when I grow up! I promised!"

"Who are they, Ruthie? How are they talking to you if they're trapped?" Were they witches? Or vampires, locked in a house by some kind of reverse invitation barrier?

"With my 'finity!"

"Your affinity?"

"That's what I said! My 'finity!" Ruthie said adamantly.

"I'm sorry, Ruthie. You know I'm very new at this, but I'd love to know more. Why don't you tell me what your affinity is? And what does it have to do with the…ladies?"

"Spirits, that's my 'finity. I can sense them really well and can talk to them lots of times. They like to help me. Especially the ladies from the house, because they're like us."

"They were witches?"

"Yes, but family, like us. That's how I knew you were mine." Ruthie smiled and Bonnie returned it, somewhat relieved. She didn't have the best experience with Bennett ghosts herself, but it was certainly better than a pack of vampires.

"You could sense they were Bennetts? And I feel…similar?"

"They're all Bennetts, but some are family. Like my mama's mama's grandma. Sisters are there too, but I was talking about our family."

"Our direct line?" Bonnie clarified.

"Yes, and you feel like that. That's how I know Sebastian's wrong. You're mine. Bonnie Bennett, the daughter of my daughters."

Bonnie shivered. The words were full of innocence but rang with power. The daughter of my daughters. Bonnie had never really wondered why she didn't have her father's last name, despite her parents' marriage, but she could see that it extended much farther back then just a decision between Rudy and Abby. A dynasty of Bennett women was not about to be unnamed because of some patriarchal tradition.

"Okay, family. Good to know. But what does this have to do with fire Ruth? And what about your nightmares?"

"They all died there. Their friends burned them for being magic. They tried to stop the nightmares; they don't want me to see, but I can't help it when I'm asleep. They're scared and leaky." If Ruthie was strongly connected to the spirits, it made sense that some unintentional transference was happening. But no six-year-old should be having nightmares about being burned at the stake for witchcraft.

"So you want to control fire so you're not so scared?" Bonnie asked. Ruthie nodded.

"If they'd been fire witches, they wouldn't have burned." She answered matter-of-factly.

"What did your mom say about all of this?"

"She's not good with fire. She doesn't even use magic to put out the stove. That's why I wanted you to teach me."

Okay, Bonnie could do this. Just conquer the fears of one six-year-old and a who-knows-how-many dead witches who were burned at the stake and trapped on the mortal plane. Fire came naturally to Bonnie, but she tried to remember those early feelings when she struggled to light candles on purpose, and the blaze of energy she felt when she'd set that car on fire.

"I'm going to hold the flame again, and I don't want to you to do anything, okay Ruthie? No making it flare or go out. I just want you to feel it." In one hand Bonnie conjured a flame, and she held out the other for Ruthie to take.

"Focus on me, and our shared connection with the spirits. You said that's your strength, but don't let them overwhelm you, don't let their fears influence yours. They are knowledge and strength and family, but they are not you or your emotions. The only one here is us, and I have complete control over the flames." Bonnie let the flame flare in her palm, pulsing with her heartbeat. "Feel me and my magic, can you do that?"

The two Bennett sat and breathed with each other. The flame stayed synchronized with Bonnie's heart, even as she began to sense a heaviness in the air. Ruthie looked up from the fire and smiled at the empty space around them. Bonnie swallowed.

"Are they here?" Bonnie whispered.

"Not everyone; just Nina and Alys." Ruthie brightly replied. Bonnie suppressed a shiver. Two hovering witch ghosts was certainly enough for her.

"Say hello from me, I guess." How exactly did one address two invisible ancient ancestors?

"They can hear you silly!" Ruthie giggled.

"Oh. Okay. Hello then."

"They say hi."

Bonnie closed her eyes, re-centering herself. She just had to ignore the ghosts and move on with the lesson.

"Now Ruthie, I want you to lay your other hand over mine."

"But the fire!"

"I know, but I won't let it hurt you." The girl tentatively reached out, and lay her hand, facing up, over Bonnie's. Their arms a closed circuit, keeping the fire alive. The flame danced over their overlapping hands.

"Feel it. It's my magic. You can feed it a little, just like you felt me doing, if you want to." Ruthie nudged a small spark of magic in, barely a breath. When it didn't explode in their faces she breathed a sigh of relief.

"You can add a little more, we can share it." The child did, and the flame grew a little larger. Bonnie let her get comfortable with the flame for a few minutes before speaking again.

"How do you feel?" Bonnie asked softly.

"Good, I like it. It's…nice."

"Now I'm going to stop feeding magic to it. You have to keep it going. Are you ready?"

She answered with a determined head nod.

"Okay. It's all yours now." Bonnie's magic ebbed away, and while the flame flickered and dimmed it didn't die.

"Good job! Now Ruthie, put it out."

"What? But I just got it! I don't want to kill it."

"It's just fire." Bonnie assured her. "It breathes and moves, but it's not alive. Now put it out."

Ruthie looked upset, but she snuffed the flame out with a clenched fist. Bonnie smiled at her success.

"Now you know how it feels. You can control fire now, and put it out, you just have to practice."

"But that wasn't real fire! It was just magic."

"You took felt the shift of control from me to you, you can do that with any fuel source. You just have to stop the energy."

"I don't know…"

"Hey, I'm three times your age and I'm still learning. You have time Ruthie, just practice when you can. Me and your mom will put out the fires until you're ready."

"Thanks Bonnie!" The girl grinned, and Bonnie pulled her into a tight hug. Ruthie might be her great-great-whatever grandmother, but Bonnie couldn't help seeing her as something close to a little sister.

Ruthie snuggled closer, exhausted from her efforts and eventual success. Bonnie shifted her into her lap, letting her young ancestor play with the ends of her hair and just relax. Over Ruthie's hair, Bonnie spotted two dark heads coming towards the house. The mid-morning sun was still bright above them, but they'd been gone for hours. Katherine and Damon had left for a walk early in the morning, long before Bonnie, or Stefan, woke. One would think the two would have been exhausted compared to Bonnie and Stefan, late night talks couldn't be nearly as tiring as their activities no matter the topic, but apparently not.

The elegant-looking pair stopped at the foot of the stairs leading up to the back porch. Bonnie could see the twirl of Katherine's parasol and the incline of their bodies as they leaned in close to speak. The vampire must have felt her gaze because Katherine's arm lifted in a vigorous wave.

"Bonnie!" The witch could make out her name on the wind, but she didn't move. Ruthie hadn't shifted at all. Damon turned to face her and waved as well. Katherine's mouth continued moving, but Bonnie didn't hear anything further. Were they calling her over? Did they want her to join them? Or were they just acknowledging her own previous laser focus?

Bonnie slowly raised her own hand to let them know she heard them. It was barely a wave, but it seemed to do the trick. Katherine stopped her bombastic gesturing and closed her parasol. After giving Damon a kiss on the cheek, and sending one last wave towards Bonnie, she went inside.

Bonnie knew from the weeks she had lived in the Salvatore Manor that Katherine would be seeking out Stefan. She split her time between them, usually more than slightly in Stefan's favor, so a morning spent with Damon meant a long afternoon and evening being entertained by Stefan.

Damon stood, one foot on the bottom step, staring up at the door Katherine had just disappeared through. Bonnie couldn't make out his expression from her vantage point. Was it lovelorn, or jealous? Or maybe he was happy just to have spent the time he had with Katherine?

Bonnie caught the glint of the buttons on Damon's coat as he shifted. He had turned to face her and Ruthie, and Bonnie turned away. She didn't want to be caught staring again. Her conversation with Stefan had reminded her of their old friendship, and the group dynamic she had left behind in the future.

Damon had been heartbroken by Katherine's absence from the tomb, but Elena and her open friendship had helped him remember his humanity again. He was patching up his relationship with Stefan, worming his way on to the council, and subsisting on filched blood bags instead of compelled victims. Bonnie and their silly banter didn't really fit into that redemption narrative. She wasn't necessary, and she was worried this whole trip would be actively detrimental. What if she finally managed to get back home and found Katherine and Damon ruling over its ashes?

It would be best if it was all forgotten. She had to get back soon after all; she couldn't stay in the past forever. What was she going to do when they all left? Would Katherine let her hitch a ride on her escape wagon? Would Emily let her pretend to be her sister or cousin as they found a new town to settle in?

Damon still stood on the steps. Was he looking at them, or just lost in thought? Before Bonnie could decide if another wave was necessary, he turned away, heading towards the stables and into the house. A thought slithered from the back of Bonnie's mind. Could she go with him, after his transition? Would he want her to, even after he found out that there was nothing waiting in Boston?

Bonnie knew that the council must be planning to strike soon, but the brothers had never disclosed an exact timeline in the future, at least not one Elena had ever shared with her. How much time did she have to plan?

"Ruthie," Bonnie said, giving the little girl a small shake to rouse her, "When did your mom say that comet is coming?" Ruthie yawned and Bonnie mentally prepared herself to carry her back to Emily's rooms.

"Tonight." She mumbled, before settling back to Bonnie's chest.

Tonight.

Oh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me writing this fic: How long was there between the founder's ball and the vampires being sealed in the tomb, how many more Bamon dates will we have time for?
> 
> Vampire Diaries wiki Timeline: The comet came the day after the ball.
> 
> Me: oh.
> 
> chapter title from: all that glitters is not gold


	10. a stitch in time

_Death ends a life,_   
_not a relationship._   
_—Mitch Albom_

"You'll protect her right? You have to!" He was clutching Bonnie's upper arms, searching her face, before switching his desperate gaze to Emily. If there had been an inkling of doubt in Bonnie about Damon's devotion to Katherine, it was gone now. He hadn't even paused to hear Stefan's explanations. He'd run straight to her, to Emily, knowing they were the only ones who could protect the vampire he loved.

"What do you expect us to do?" Bonnie asked. She could have told him that Emily was already well-prepared to protect the vampires. Word of the trap door which led to the tomb had been passed through the town's undead population, and Bonnie knew her ancestor had already mapped out the spell she would be using. No one mentioned that the spell would last until the comet came around again, and Bonnie had a feeling that the vampires were unaware of this fact.

"You're a witch right? That's why you're so—" He broke off, unsure how to finish his sentence, and in too much of a rush to spend time finding the word. "Please. There must be something you can do." He let go of Bonnie and looked ready to get on his knees before Emily.

"There is something I can try. But I will need something from you in return" Emily said. Vampires weren't the only cunning creatures in the supernatural community. Emily had been extracting bargains for her protection all week. Most had ceded gold, or grimoires, or some hoarded trinket from centuries past, but Damon didn't have anything like that to give. What he did have though, was a future.

"Anything, I'll do anything." Damon promised.

Emily looked to her descendant, and Bonnie gave a quick nod. He was sincere in his promise. He would keep up his end of the bargain.

"I will protect Katherine, and all the vampires that have come with her. But if I do this, if I protect the vampires that have been captured, you must promise to protect my children, and my children's children, for as long as my line continues."

"Done. Katherine and I will protect the Bennett line for as long as we live."

"I want you to swear it, on your own life. And don't make any promises for Katherine. This promise means you would defend us, even against Katherine." Emily's words stayed calm, but Damon remained frantic and his words rushed.

"I swear it. As long as you protect Katherine, I will protect your descendants against all harm." Emily nodded, and the oath took hold. Bonnie wondered if he felt the ropes of magic winding around his heart, binding him to his word. She wondered if he had physically felt its release when Emily destroyed the crystal. If he knew that he could tear into Bonnie's neck, with no consequences, because Emily had gone back on her word and broken her side of the oath.

"So it will be." If Emily meant to continue, she gave no sign and got no chance. Stefan rushed headlong into the room.

"I found her! They're taking her in a carriage to the church, it will cross Wickery Bridge in minutes. We can catch it in the woods on this side!" He slammed out of the room, with Damon seconds behind.

Bonnie felt, more than she ever had in her time in 1864, like she was watching a movie about history, rather than living it. Her body felt leaden, as if time itself was trying to stop her from changing anything. It reminded her of how heavy she had felt when she first arrived.

"I'll need your help, Bonnie. Even with the comet, it will take both of us to save twenty-seven vampires from conflagration." Emily said once they'd heard the brothers leave out the front door.

"You know the plan as well as I do, and Katherine even better, so I think you already know that it will be twenty-six vampires in that tomb." Bonnie replied and Emily smiled.

"That's thanks to you, you know Bonnie. If you hadn't drawn the attention of George Lockwood, Katherine would never have noticed that he was a werewolf."

Bonnie blinked.

"What? George Lockwood is a werewolf? Werewolves are real?" Emily just looked at Bonnie, demonstrating a truly impressive dead pan stare.

"As real as you and me, and significantly more violent. They run in the Lockwood family. George came back from the front with the ability to turn. He's the one who's been ripping the necks out of people every full moon." That explained why none of the vampires had fessed up to such messy eating habits. But how could the Founder's council hunt vampires, and not know that one of their own was a werewolf? But more importantly—

"You knew this and you let me go to a ball with him? What happened to protecting your family?"

"Family is everything to me, and I will do anything necessary to protect them from this world. I would have stopped George Lockwood's heart in his chest if he'd even thought about hurting you." She paused, tucking a strand of loose hair behind Bonnie's ear. "But he just wanted to dance with you, Bonnie."

Emily had spent years as Katherine Pierce's handmaiden, traveling with the vampire with her own children in tow. Bonnie could only imagine the dangers they'd faced, both supernatural and mundane, but this seemed too cavalier of an attitude to take when facing a dangerous creature. Did he only kill people on the full moon? Had there been a full moon the night of the Founder's Celebration? She would have to search Grams' library a little more carefully once she got home. If werewolves were real, what else was out there?

"Okay. I'm going to completely set that aside as not the issue right now. What are we going to do about the church? Is everything ready?"

"You brought a stone with you when you travelled here. You said it was a bloodstone, right?" Bonnie nodded, following Emily with her eyes as the witch dug through one of her own trunks.

"Did it look like this?" Emily held up an identical stone. Bonnie's eyes grew wide.

"Yes, exactly like that." She'd hidden the stone among her own things. And while Emily could have stolen it, she had no reason to do so.

"I thought this might be the one you spoke of. Except yours now has over a century of extra magical charge, if I'm right. I think it's been tied to the spell that locks the tomb. If we can harness that energy, we can use it to kickstart the spell. Go and get yours. Meet me in the graveyard by Fell's Church, I will check on Pearl."

Both women left Katherine and Emily's rooms. Bonnie headed towards her own, while Emily went for the front door. Bonnie knew that Pearl was being exposed by Jonathan Gilbert's pocket watch as they spoke, and that Emily would save Anna from meeting the same fate. Another crossroad, another chance for Bonnie to change the story she knew.

She thought of stopping Emily, and condemning Anna, her kidnapper, but hesitated. Now that concrete opportunities to change the future were presenting themselves to her, when she knew which way history was leading, she felt real fear at the thought of changing it. A few months of ripples was one thing, but what if she accidentally caused something more severe? What if she prevented her own birth? Or Caroline's? What if she somehow caused the Civil War to go the other way? What if Anna has inadvertently (or purposefully, who knew?) stopped Hitler from taking over all of Europe? She had no idea, and she wasn't keen to find out by returning to a future with a successful third Reich. Better to let the big things remain unchanged.

When she got to her room, she grabbed the bloodstone quickly, but hesitated over the rest of the bag. Her jeans would be much more comfortable than her dress, but she wouldn't be able to get out of the corset without help anytime soon. Huffing in frustration, she grabbed her grandfather's necklace, an elastic hairband, and an energy bar. The first she would never leave behind, and the latter two because she had a feeling that this would be a long night.

* * *

The two Bennetts met in the graveyard beyond the church grounds, the area reserved for sinners, suicides, and witches. It wasn't tended to by anyone, and trees interspersed the graves and high grass. They stood within sight of the church but were well hidden. Emily had brought Anna with her.

"We'll use her blood as a further binding." Bonnie nodded, but had a feeling that Anna's blood would be used to identify vampires for the seal, making it safe for all other species to cross. Anna crouched at the wall separating the unhallowed graves from the blessed, watching as the first vampires were carried, hog tied and drugged, into the church.

"Do you have the stone?" The witches both spoke in unison, but neither laughed.

"I've got mine." Bonnie held up the stone she'd used to travel back in time. Emily mirrored her action with her own bloodstone.

"Are you familiar with this spell?" Emily asked. Bonnie was. She'd studied the tomb sealing spell with Grams before they'd attempted to open it.

"I don't understand though. I thought your crystal, the talisman, was what locked the tomb."

"The crystal will act as a channel for the comet, and it will bring more power to the spell. But it is just the key, though a tricky one. This," Emily held up her bloodstone, "is the lock."

Bonnie swallowed. That didn't make sense to her, but there was no use arguing stones with Emily Bennett. "Okay, let's do this."

The witches set up the elemental circle. The both stood within the circle, Bonnie in front of the lit candle, and Emily in front of the bowl of earth. Anna remained outside, but a bowl of her blood lay on the ground between the two Bennetts. Each held a bloodstone, identical in every way. They were the same stone after all.

"First, I'm going to draw the energy from your stone to mine, you don't have to do anything. This is my area of expertise." If Emily were a different person, she would have winked here, or smirked, but she wasn't so she did neither. "After I place my stone in Annabelle's blood, we'll join hands, and begin the sealing spell. The comet will be directly overhead." Bonnie nodded, taking a deep breath. She could do this. She knew more than she did the first time she tried this spell, and she had the comet at her back this time, not to mention one of the most powerful Bennett witches ever in front of her.

"Bonnie?" Emily called for her attention. Anna was still staring at the church, searching each face to identify them as they were carried into the church. Bonnie looked at Emily. "After I do this, I don't know how long you can remain here. The bloodstone is connected to you. It might be only minutes, but it might be months. I wish I could be more exact, but we no longer have time." Bonnie swallowed. She wouldn't need to look for a way home any longer, but she had no idea when she would be leaving. Lovely.

"I know this isn't ideal. But we must live with what Nature provides. Now, are you ready."

"Ready as I'll ever be." Bonnie replied. She would never be as stoically accepting of life's challenges as Emily was, but she didn't exactly have any time to complain. The comet was here, and the vampires were all inside the church.

Emily began chanting, eyes closed and both hands curled tightly around her bloodstone. Bonnie realized she had no idea what she was supposed to do with her own stone once the transfer was complete. Toss it aside? Awkwardly put it at her feet before grabbing Emily's hands?

Her worries about where to put the stone quickly dissipated, replaced by greater alarm. Deep fissures were appearing on the bloodstone, large ones. Before her eyes the stone cracked and crumbled into dust. She was left holding just a sinlge oblong sliver. She stared, not even noticing Emily opening her eyes and placing her own stone, still whole, into the bowl of blood.

"Bonnie, we have to begin now." Bonnie started, and hastily shoved the last piece of her stone travelling companion into her bodice. She missed pockets.

The lone candle flared as they began chanting, and the smell of freshly tilled earth filled the air. The spell seemed to last hours and seconds at once. Bonnie could feel the tomb being built with their words, the layers of protection they were weaving over the prison falling into place. Finally, she felt it. The lock clicked, and both Bennetts stopped chanting at the same moment. Bonnie glanced down. The blood in the bowl was gone, and the bloodstone was dry. But the red veins that ran through the stone seemed more vibrant, almost alive.

Emily stooped and picked up the stone, stowing it in her waiting satchel.

The familiar amber crystal hung around her neck. And she fingered it for a moment before taking it off. She held it tightly in her hand, as if she didn't want to part with it.

"I have to find a place for the stone. It will need to stay near the tomb for it to be effective. I can have my brother get a shovel, we'll bury it at the foot of a grave, so it is not disturbed." Bonnie, who remembered that the bodies under her feet were exhumed and the graves moved as part of a Virginia wide historical society project, shook her head.

"No, it belongs at the Salvatore's. It fits in the centerpiece of their main fireplace. It will be safe there." Emily nodded slowly.

"We have to go, I have to give this to Damon," Emily said indicating her talisman, "and they'll light the church any second. We don't want to be here when they do." Her words were spoken too late. The church blazed, dry timber catching easily. Flames shot out of the windows, and the glass shattered. The area was suddenly much better lit, and all three women immediately dropped to ground.

"We can't leave together, we'll be too noticeable as a group. And we're all known as associates of vampires." Emily bit her lip, obviously thinking hard. "Annabelle, take this." She thrust the bloodstone into her hands. "This is what is keeping your mother safe. Bring it to the Salvatore's. You've been invited in before. Get it onto that fireplace. I don't care who you have to compel or convince. Just get it done, and get out of town. Don't wait for either of us." Anna nodded, grabbed the stone, and was gone in a blur. Emily turned her head to Bonnie. They lay on their fronts, their faces inches from each other, their bodies parallel to the witches and sinners laying six feet beneath them.

"Bonnie. You are an amazing witch, and I am proud to know you are part of my family." She stretched out an arm, and Bonnie grasped her hand. Emily's fingers tightened over her own. Without the power of the spell, their entwined hands felt different. Not lesser, but full of something else, safe and warm.

"They will search Katherine's rooms. They probably already have. My things are there, they will know I am a witch." Bonnie gasped. The Salem witch trials were more than a century in the past even for this time, but townspeople who burned vampires weren't likely to spare witches. "I am not going to walk away from this. But you are." Emily let go of her hand and placed her talisman in Bonnie's palm. "This contains more of me than anything else on this earth other than my children, keep it safe. Keep them safe, and keep yourself safe. Now go!" She shoved away, stood, and ran away. Not into the woods behind them, but around. She was hoping to be spotted, hoping to draw any possible hunters away from Bonnie.

Bonnie rolled over again, erasing any lingering traces of their circle, before picking up the bowl and candle stub. After assuring herself that she had Emily's talisman and the last piece of her bloodstone she stumbled into the woods. She didn't make it twenty feet before she ran into another body.

Both of them had been rushing, looking behind them for pursuers, and neither had been prepared for a moving obstacle. The candle and bowl went flying. Bonnie landed on a large protruding root, and she groaned.

"Bonnie?" The witch experienced déjà vu as she opened her eyes to find Damon leaning over her. This time, he was much closer, and his face was marked with drying tear tracks.

"Damon? What are you doing here?" Any answer he had was cut off by a shout, far closer than Bonnie was comfortable with.

"We have to get out of here, hang on to me." Damon grabbed her without waiting for her answer, and Bonnie felt the wind start rushing by. Her legs and skirt uncomfortably jostled at the speed, hitting Damon's as he ran through the woods. Bonnie could feel the bruises forming, but he was going too fast for her to adjust her body at all. This was nothing like when Stefan jumped out of the tomb with her. Bonnie closed her eyes tightly, hoping to dispel the nausea brought on by the rapidly moving trees.

Just as suddenly as he had started, he stopped. Placing her down, he removed his arms from where they had wrapped around her. One hand stayed at her waist, steadying her while she swayed.

"Sorry, I don't really know how this works yet." Bonnie looked around. She could barely see a thing, but she could hear the lapping of water and vaguely make out a ramshackle structure a few yards away.

"Where are we? How did you run like that? Have you already turned?" Bonnie took a step closer, so that they were chest to chest. She didn't know what she was looking for in his eyes, some telltale sign that he now needed to drink blood to survive? A lack of life that meant he'd chosen to switch his humanity off? She found nothing, they were the same eyes that had bored into her as they danced, twinkled as he laughed over their shared ice cream, and flashed at each of her challenges.

"No, I'm not. It seems like some of the powers come early. Katherine didn't tell me that. But I guess she didn't spend long in transition." He stepped back, and sat down, staring out into the night. Bonnie assumed that he could see better than she could, because it was an inky expanse of nothingness to her. The moon overhead was dull and dim. She could barely see him, even with his bright and reflective white shirt. She sat next to him, close so she couldn't lose him in the dark.

"You need to drink human blood to fully turn. Is that why you went to the church? And where's Stefan?" He turned, eyes suddenly blazing.

"You knew?" He asked venomously.

"Knew what?" Bonnie was confused.

"That she was feeding him blood! That she planned for this! That Katherine never wanted eternity with me at all!" Bonnie swallowed. She had never known Damon to be angry with Katherine before he found out she wasn't starving in the tomb under Fell's Church. And she'd missed his initial anger at that revelation. She'd been there for the despondency, and his later cold fury, but nothing in between. What could she say to him now?

"I knew that she was giving Stefan blood, yes. She's been compelling him to drink, and to forget about it." She said quietly. Damon punched the ground.

"That just makes it worse. He didn't even want this, she had to force him. And here I am, desperate and willing, and I don't even get the girl because she's fucking dead!"

"Damon—"

"And what am I supposed to do without her? No one else wants me. Am I to live life alone as a monster? Or with Stefan forever? Perhaps we'll find a new girl to fall in love with, a new girl to pick him over me."

"She didn't exactly pick him over you, Damon," At least she hadn't yet. "And you don't have to be a monster, or alone." Her first statement had earned a scoff, but her second caught his interest.

"I don't have to be alone? Have you changed your mind? Will you stay with me, Bonnie?" The witch was shocked. That was not what she expected him to latch onto. She remembered what Emily said. She couldn't go with him just to disappear in an hour or a week. Especially in his current mood. It'd be better if they had a clean break.

"Damon, I can't. I'm not a vampire. I'm mortal. And I have to go home soon." He looked away again, the hope she hadn't even realized she'd kindled was gone from his face.

"There's no point to this existence when you're alone, you're a monster because you're killing people to stay alive for nothing, for no one." He threw a rock, hard, and Bonnie heard its splash as it hit the water in front of them. It sounded very far away.

"That's a pretty depressing outlook on your life." And about as dramatic as Caroline freshman year. There's no point in living when you're single? Yes, there was the added nuance about vampirism, but it still sounded harsh to Bonnie. Probably because she'd been single for most of her high school career.

"Well, it's not much of a life. I only have a day left; I can be as depressed as I want."

"You don't plan on completing the transition?" Hadn't he just been asking for her to run away with him? Had he been trying to contract her as his undertaker and not as a companion?

"Do I look like I'm out hunting for a human to drink from?" He replied glibly.

"There's a human sitting right next to you."

"You offering a vein?"

"No, but I thought I should point it out. You might even be fast enough to get some before I stopped you."

"You think I don't know that? You think that every part of me isn't screaming at me right now to take a bite out of you? Believe me Bonnie, I know you're human. I can hear your heartbeat, see the blood pumping through the veins at your wrist, I can smell you." He leaned into her, breathing in deeply, his nose just beneath her jawbone. She could feel the puff of his breath on her skin at each word.

Stefan had given her blood that night Emily had possessed her, and she had no scars from Damon's bite. But she could feel the ghost of the wound now, with its giver so close. His lips brushed the skin above her collar before he pulled away. Bonnie let out a shaky breath.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to bite you. Like I said, this is the end of the line for me."

"What about meeting my friends?" Bonnie asked. How did she convince him to live? What had she changed that made him want to give up on life? And what could she do to change it back?

"The friends you refuse to introduce me to? I think I'll pass." She caught the flash of his teeth as her smiled. Her throat felt tight. How could he be smiling and joking while saying things like this?

"And what about all the places you could visit? The things you haven't done? What about the people you still haven't met?" Bonnie thought of the future, of Damon's face when he looked at Stefan and Elena, the hurt there, but also the love. "Maybe you'll meet someone in the future that will make you forget all about this. Someone you will really love."

"She'll probably be in love with Stefan too." Bonnie winced, and hoped her heart didn't stutter too obviously. Damon narrowed his eyes.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you'd miss me, Bonnie."

"I will." Bonnie hadn't hesitated over the answer, and she wasn't lying. She liked Damon here in the past, and he had his moments in the future. There, she'd always felt on uneven footing. He knew more than her, was stronger than her, and always seemed on edge, like he was a second away from snapping her neck. Here, in a time when they should be considered anything but, they were equals. Bonnie had grown to consider him a friend, and maybe—no, a friend.

She held up Emily's talisman. It was her final play. Elena had said Damon didn't know Katherine had survived until after he had turned, but Emily wasn't there to give him the crystal, and Bonnie didn't know if she'd be there in the morning to give him the good news.

"This will open the tomb. When the comet returns, find a witch, and use this."

"You did it? You saved her?"

"Katherine is safe." Damon's eyes were locked to the crystal.

"When the comet returns…but…that isn't for another century!"

"A hundred and forty-five years, yes."

"That's a long time to wait."

"It could be longer." And it would be, actually. They had no idea where Katherine was. Maybe it'd be another century before Damon and his sire crossed paths again.

"And you won't stay with me?" Damon asked. He still hadn't taken the talisman, and it hung from Bonnie's outstretched hand between them.

"And be a placeholder for Katherine? No thanks." She tossed the chain towards him, and he caught it midair. She felt lighter without it. Did that mean she'd set him back on the right track?

"I didn't say that. We're friends aren't we?"

"Yes, Damon, we're friends. But I still have to leave. Soon."

"Will I see you again?" He actually sounded worried that he wouldn't. How would she face Damon back home? The snark would be the same, but there'd be none of the care underneath.

"Of course." Of course, Bonnie thought, when you try and force me to open the tomb to save your dead girlfriend and then rip my throat out. Would that still happen?

Thinking about his attack again made her doubt her decision, with Anna before, and now with Damon, to not change the future. She could stop Damon from transitioning. She could kill him right now. He didn't have the ability to heal from the aneurism she could inflict.

But again, she hesitated. Would she have been born if Damon hadn't been protecting the Bennett line? Would she have lived past five, without Damon's timely intervention with the dog? No, Damon would become a vampire, and kill hundreds of people, because Bonnie was going to be selfish. Not only for her life, but for his. Because, and Bonnie could barely admit it to herself, they really were friends, and she wanted him to be there when she got back home.

She could feel something in her navel. A cord unravelling, ready to drop her as soon as the last twist was undone. The last piece of her bloodstone burned hot against her chest. Was that a signal that it was finished holding her here? When it failed as her anchor, would she travel back home, or just…dissipate? Lost forever?

"Damon I have to go." She stood and turned away from him. Her eyes were dry, despite her fear that she was about to die. She wanted to stay, to throw herself into his arms. To know that in her last moments someone cared about her to hold her close. But Bonnie hadn't relied on anyone in years, and it wouldn't do any good to break her streak in her final moments. Besides, Damon had just lost Katherine. She didn't need to add her own loss to his conscience right now. She'd only just convinced him to live.

Bonnie started walking, not knowing where she was going. She'd started to lose feeling in her hands and feet, so she was up to her ankles before she realized she'd walked into the water.

She breathed in and thought of home. Would clicking her heels be too much?

"Bonnie, what are you—?" Damon said behind her.

"Remember your promise to Emily! You have to protect her children!" Bonnie called.

"Bonnie!" She took another step forward, the water at her knees, and the unraveling was complete. She heard a splash behind her, Damon trying to follow her, but Bonnie was already gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title from: a stitch in time saves nine
> 
> I live in fear of accidentally uploading a chapter from the original draft of this story (the files are all saved in the same folder on my external hard drive) and readers opening the update to a first person trash fire from my early teens. Not today at least!
> 
> This was the last 1864 chapter! Some links for your perusal:  
> [The dress Bonnie is wearing in this chapter.](https://cinqjours.tumblr.com/post/624939070578212864/fashionsfromhistory-dress-c1866-cincinnati)  
> [What a bloodstone looks like (including what the piece Bonnie is left with at the end of this chapter).](https://cinqjours.tumblr.com/post/624943003035910144/bloodstone-x-x-x)


	11. a journey of a thousand miles

_I am not concerned that you have fallen,_   
_I am concerned that you arise._   
_—Abraham Lincoln_

For a moment, Bonnie felt resistance, her back foot being sucked into the mud beneath the water, but with one jerk her foot was free, and the water gone. She stood in the middle of a sidewalk, and the hard pavement underneath the soles of her boots was still warm from the setting sun. Her boots squelched, still full of quarry water, and the bottoms of her skirts were clumped and muddy. Bonnie ducked into the shadow of a nearby building, hoping to avoid any stares at her outfit.

She quickly realized there was no real need to worry about her dress. The street was bustling, and well-lit compared to Mystic Falls, but her clothing wouldn't make her stand out, even with her damp skirts. A man bustled down the sidewalk lighting the lamps with a long taper, horses drew carriages along the street, and all the women in sight wore bonnets and bustles. Unless her actions had kept hoop skirts in fashion until the twenty-first century, and somehow prevented the invention of some seriously essential technology, she wasn't home.

It didn't seem as if too much time had passed, or any at all, considering the clothing, but she had no idea where she was. There were more people on this street than in all of Mystic Falls, even in 2010. The spell wasn't supposed to allow geographic travel at all. What had she botched this time?

Bonnie looked down at the energy bar in her hand. Its colorful wrapper stood out in the dim light. What had Mr. Salvatore made of the others tucked away in her bag, along with her jeans and cell phone? Casting aside worries of the space time continuum being wrecked by her leaving behind a few modern snacks and a cheap flip phone, Bonnie tore open the packet, swallowing the bar in two huge bites. She hadn't eaten since the last dinner at the Salvatores' table, where she'd sat next to Katherine and across from the two brothers, joking about the previous night's party and their plans for next week.

For her that had been hours ago. Since then, Bonnie had performed more magic than she'd ever done at one time before and traveled an unknown distance in space and time. She was exhausted, and hungry, and didn't even want to think about what her next steps now were, without Emily or Damon to lean on.

"Finally, I've been waiting for you for ages! And what are you wearing? Couldn't you find clean petticoats? At least the dress looks alright, though you could've worn a newer cut." Bonnie whirled around, crumpling the wrapper in her fist, and holding it behind her back. The shadows she'd shrunk into, to avoid suspicious eyes on the street, had led her into an alleyway. A tall, angular woman now stood in the open doorway closest to the witch and was gesturing for Bonnie to come closer. Unsure how to respond, Bonnie remained silent for the moment, assessing her options. The woman took that as at least half an assent.

"At least you're quiet, come on then. I'll show you where you're sitting."

Bonnie glanced behind her at the busy street. She knew no one, had no idea where she was, and had no place to go. Plus, sitting down sounded amazing. She passed under the woman's arm, into the warmth of the lit door.

Inside it was loud and cramped. People were everywhere, in various states of undress, carrying random items and lengths of rope to and fro. One woman was crying, another singing, and the entire hallway was clouded with smoke. Bonnie coughed, not used to tobacco smoke filling up such limited spaces. She squinted, trying to see a way through the dense throng.

"This way girl, you're up in a box tonight. I think it'd be better to leave it open, an easy advertisement that it's available, but the managers insist that no seat be empty tonight. Though I don't know how a single negro girl is going to project an image of luxury to anyone looking up, but who listens to me around here, no one!" The woman spoke without pausing for any answer or even a nod of understanding from Bonnie.

They reached the top of the stairs and after a series of rapid turns went through another door. Bonnie spilled into the new room after her guide, not prepared for its luxury after the dim chaos of the warren she had just emerged from. Abruptly, it became clear that she'd come through the servants' entrance, and this was the main event. Golden chandeliers hung from the ceiling, matching sconces dotted the walls, dark wood paneling met intricately detailed wallpaper, and thick, plush carpet, cushioned the floor under her feet.

The woman led her to a wall of heavy red curtains and pulled one open with a deft hand. Bonnie hadn't even seen the break in fabric. On the other side was a small balcony, featuring four chairs and a ridiculous fancy spittoon, that overlooked a stage and rows of seats. A theatre box. Bonnie was in a theatre. The cast of eccentric characters she'd just waded through suddenly made a lot more sense.

"Here we are. You are to stay here throughout the show, even in intermission. You are not to talk to any guests. If someone comes in asking for directions, direct them to an usher. If someone asks about the pricing of the box, direct them downstairs to me." The woman paused, giving Bonnie a shrewd look. "You're not a whore are you?"

"What? Excuse me? No!" Bonnie sputtered in shock.

"Good. We can't have anyone doing business out of here. Ford's Theatre is a respectable establishment. Am I understood?"

Bonnie was more confused than ever, but those chairs looked so inviting.

"Yes, I understand. Stay here. No talking to anyone."

"Good, you're not dumb or stupid. Now neaten yourself up, you never know who is watching from the other side of the theatre." Bonnie looked across open space, to the box directly opposite to the one in which they stood. There was no one there. The only other movement in the cavernous space came from the people running back and forth on the stage, testing curtains, and painting last minute additions on to haphazardly placed set pieces.

"We'll start letting guests into the theatre in half an hour. I do not want to hear a word from you. At the end of the night, come to the box office to collect your pay. If you have done your job, we may use you more nights this week." Without another word, she dropped the curtain, leaving Bonnie alone. The witch dropped into a chair, made a cursory attempt to straighten her hair, and decided she could rest her eyes for just a minute. The show didn't start for half an hour; she had time. Two blinks and a yawn later, Bonnie was slumped over in her seat fast asleep.

She woke with a shout. Not her own, but one from the stage below. Whatever line the actor had delivered with such volume had driven the audience into a burst of laughter, and Bonnie from her sleep. The room was full of people, and a miasma of smoke lingered above the crowd seated below her. Across the room, she could just make out a pale figure in the opposite box. Her skin crawled, and she felt like they were looking at her. But that hardly made sense. The play had to be more interesting than her nap. Bonnie shivered, but set aside the feeling. She was still starving, though a little less tired, and desperately needed to pee. She didn't care what directions she'd been given; she needed the bathroom.

Ducking out of her box, Bonnie noted the man standing on the other side. Did he work for the theatre? Maybe one of the ushers her cranky employer had mentioned? His buttons certainly looked shiny enough for it. She froze, half in the box, and half out of it, waiting for him to scold her for disobeying her job description. He eyed her for a moment, and then smiled. Bonnie smiled back. Okay, he wasn't there to watch her then.

She hurried away, down the hall. No one was there, as the play was still on stage, and she found the empty bathroom with relative ease. Even more luckily, it had something resembling a modern toilet. Bonnie thanked all the higher powers she knew, did her business, washed her hands, and left. Maybe she was farther away from 1864 than she'd feared. The Salvatores certainly hadn't had plumbing, a fact Bonnie had cursed morning and night during her stay. But she'd never studied fashion history, or the history of toilets, and had no idea how she could pinpoint her exact date based on what little she knew.

She could ask someone the date and year, which would make her look like a crazy person, or hunt down a newspaper. The latter was on her to do list as soon as she got out of here, with the former acting as a solid back up plan. After the play was over though. Bonnie planned on collecting her paycheck, because she didn't have any money, ancient or modern, and she needed to buy some food. That energy bar was not living up to its satisfy-your-worst-cravings promises.

As she strode back down the hallway and up the short flight of stairs, she heard a noise down the hall. She hoped her temporary boss hadn't noticed that Bonnie wasn't in her seat. She was really hungry. Bonnie sped up, making her way back to the smiling man with the shiny buttons. Once she reached him she drew up short, facing a wall of impenetrable curtains. Had he stood to the left of her box, or to the right? Where should she try and find the break in the fabric?

"Do you wish to go in Miss?" Bonnie looked at him, he had subtly shifted his body, angling it towards the curtains to the right. He was definitely a well-trained usher.

"Yes, I do, thank you." He nodded and pulled open the curtain for her, murmuring something about her circumstances that Bonnie didn't understand, and she ducked in. She immediately realized that this was not the box she'd come from. For one, it was bigger. Secondly, it was full of people. Bonnie extended her hand behind her, trying to quickly leave before she was noticed, but her hand only hit uninterrupted heavy fabric. Should she just crawl under them?

"What are you doing here?" The woman's voice was sharp yet remained soft, as if she wished she could yell but didn't wish to raise her voice and disturb the other guests.

"I-I'm just—"

"I'm tired of this. We've had more than enough visitors for the night. Henry, remove her." The woman turned away and Bonnie saw a different man with shiny buttons move from his post. He'd unsheathed the sword at his belt and was pointing it at her chest. They were definitely not ushers.

For all of her time in 1864, for all of Stefan's suspicions, and the vampires and the unexpected werewolves, this was never a danger Bonnie thought she'd face. Someone was pointing an actual sword at her. The witch felt faint. She desperately reached behind her, where was the end of the curtain?

Another man stood, unfolding from his chair into a height that towered over the woman who had asked for her removal. He towered over the man with the sword, and Bonnie too. More than his height, it was his words that filled up the space. Spoken with authority, and to Bonnie's relief, in her favor.

"Sheath your sword Henry, the poor woman is scared to death."

Bonnie's relieved sigh nearly choked her, as her throat seized halfway through the motion. The man had turned his face full towards her, and one of the few lit wall sconces had illuminated his it. Bonnie knew his face, not from Mystic Falls past or future, but from her history textbooks. It was Abraham Lincoln.

"Oh my God." It was the only thing Bonnie's mouth could form the words to say. More shocking that human Salvatores, or a vampire with Elena's exact face by far. The supernatural Bonnie could handle. This was Abraham fucking Lincoln.

"Not quite, I am only the president of one country." His wife scoffed at his words while the man, Henry, finally sheathed his sword. Bonnie remained frozen, jaw slack with shock.

"I'm sorry…I didn't…thought…I thought this was my box…um…sorry again. And thank you. Thank you so much. For everything." She stuttered through her flimsy explanation and gushed out her thanks.

"You are most welcome." He smiled kindly at Bonnie and she shifted, nervous, and felt the palpable awkwardness of the situation.

"You can go now." The sharp words originated from the short woman from before. Bonnie assumed she must be Mrs. Lincoln. The stress lines on her face seemed to match his, though she seemed to wear hers more unhappily.

"Now now Mary, no need to be rude to her, the war is over, you should be in a better mood. Look down there, the funniest part is coming up; she'll never be able to get back to her seat with the theater in this state. Come sit, the show is almost over anyhow." Bonnie nodded and sat in the indicated chair, deciding not to mention that her seat was exactly three feet away in the next box. The empty box that she was supposed to be filling, instead of sitting with the President of the United States. She ignored her clenching stomach. Her lost paycheck, and lost meal, was well worth this.

Another man pushed through the curtain, and Bonnie glanced back. He was handsome, in an old-fashioned sort of way. He wore his hair the same as Damon in 1864 but, Bonnie thought with some shame, the Salvatore wore it better. No one else paid him any mind, and he seemed content to wait for his audience with the President. Or maybe Bonnie had taken his seat? She felt the blood rushing to her cheeks in embarrassment, but it would be worse to stand now. She ignored him and turned back to face the stage.

"Don't know the manners of good society, eh?"

Bonnie heard the words but didn't absorb them. Her brain was working hard on a problem that she didn't even know was in front of her.

Ford's Theatre. The war is over. President Abraham Lincoln.

"Well, I guess I know enough to turn you inside out, old gal — you sockdologizing old man-trap..." The laughter was deafening. Bonnie didn't understand why, didn't get the joke, but considering she'd slept through the first half of the play, she could hardly blame the writing.

Abraham Lincoln. The war is over. Ford's Theater. The laughter. Abraham Lincoln was assassinated in Ford's Theater just six days after the Civil War ended. He was killed at what many considered the funniest part of the play so that the laughter would help muffle the gun shot. Bonnie's eyes went wide.

"No!" Bonnie turned to the President, but it was already too late. At her shout, the handsome man had fired his gun, and blood was everywhere. Mrs. Lincoln screamed, not even words, but an inarticulate scream of despair. Tears already streamed down her face, as she cradled her husband's head in her lap.

Henry had drawn his sword again, but the man, John Wilkes Booth Bonnie now realized, parried the attack with the length of his pistol. Booth grinned, high on his success.

Bonnie could no longer just watch in horror. One spell from her would set this man alight.

"You're no hero, Booth, and you won't get away with this!" Bonnie lunged for him. She must have looked scarier than her height and gender would warrant for this time, or maybe her words were filled with the conviction of his future legacy, or maybe the magic pumping through her veins was apparent on her face, because the confidence drained from the assassin's expression. Instead of facing her, he jumped from the box and onto the stage.

Bonnie watched as one of his legs crumpled beneath him, broken. The actors on stage leapt back, unsure how to take the unexpected addition to their tableau.

The audience cheered. They loved a spectacle and had no idea what he had done.

"Be quiet! He killed the President! He shot him! Stop cheering!" Bonnie leaned over the box's railing, shouting down to the crowd. No one paid her any attention. Mrs. Lincoln's wails were beginning to include words. Bonnie had just heard the first "Murder!" when she felt an arm wrap around her waist from behind, pulling her away from the ledge.

"Come on, you have to get out of here. You are drawing too much attention to yourself." Bonnie thought the exact opposite, she needed to draw more attention, but her body unwillingly relaxed into the familiar grip. This was not the response she wanted to have to a vampire, but her unconscious knew and trusted him. And he would be a familiar face in a sea of unknowns.

She turned, allowing Damon to tug her past President Lincoln. His eyes were still moving. He was still alive, despite taking a bullet to the head. Bonnie knew he would not remain that way for long.

Damon stopped pulling her along when they were a few streets away from the theatre. Bonnie could still hear shouts; the news was already spreading. Damon stopped and turned around. He held her face between his hands, forcing her to meet his gaze.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

"Yes, yes I'm fine." She assured him shakily. Damon released her face, but kept her close, skimming his hands down her shoulders and sides. Like he didn't trust her words, and wanted to ascertain that none of the blood belonged to her himself. His hands stopped at the swell of her skirt, and he stroked the fabric once, face now calm, before withdrawing.

"So, it seems Stefan was right all along."

"About what?"

"Why your purposes in Mystic Falls of course. Or were you not reporting your gathered secrets to the Great Enemy? Before his untimely death of course." His eyes widened in an underscore of his mocking tone. And Bonnie let out a wobbly laugh. It sounded to high pitched, at the edge of hysteria. She had to get a hold of herself. If she was going to run with, or against, vampires, a gunshot couldn't break her. She wiped away the tears she hadn't even felt falling.

"Not a very good spy, if I didn't see the assassination coming." Her weak attempt at humor lifted the lingering gloom from his face, and he gifted her with a wide close-lipped smile, and a waggling finger.

"Ah, but that's why you were in a supremely unimportant small town in Virginia, and not in Atlanta or Richmond, little human."

His epithet threw Bonnie back into reality. He looked like the same Damon she knew, from 1864. He must be different now; Bonnie knew that after she had left he had drank human blood and completed the transition. But, without the telltale extended fangs and dark veins, he seemed no different from her friend.

Damon, with his heightened senses, heard her heart stutter.

"Oh relax, I'm still not going to eat you. I don't eat my friends." He rolled his eyes, brushing her away her concerns. "Unless you're interested that is? I could be persuaded. You know, you do smell very nice." He shifted closer, but even a frightened Bonnie could recognize when he was being facetious.

"Oh, shut up."

Damon laughed and took a full step back.

"Hey, had to let you know the offer was on the table."

"It is not on the table. Ugh, gross." Bonnie mimed gagging to drive the point home.

"What, you never let Katherine take a sip? Or Pearl?" He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"No! The only vampire that's ever bit me was—" Bonnie stopped herself just in time. The only vampire that had ever bit her was the one standing in front of her. It was not a fond memory. "The only time a vampire drank from me, he was attacking me. I didn't even understand why, it was in revenge for something I didn't even do, Emily had crossed him, but…it wasn't…well I don't want to experience that ever again." Bonnie hoped the subject would be dropped, but Damon's face was no longer calm.

"Well I hope Emily lit the bastard up. Or did you stake him? You strike me as an extremely vengeful woman yourself." Oh, the irony.

"No, neither. He's alive and well."

"Not for long, do you know where he is? He must be older than me, but I'm a wily one, I can take him down for you." What could Bonnie say? Actually he's not older than you, he's exactly your age because he is you.

"You definitely don't want to do that." Bonnie said instead of anything she'd been thinking.

"Yeah, I do. I can't have this random vampire giving us all a bad rep and ruining our friendship."

"What are you talking about?"

"I reminded you that I was a vampire just now, when I called you a human. You're uncomfortable. I can see all of your tells now, and I remember you were the same with Katherine. Even though you were friends the fact that she was a vampire scared you. And if it takes gutting this one bloodsucker to get you over this, I'm willing to be the one to do it."

"So you think ripping out someone else's organs will make me more comfortable with you?" She asked, eyebrow raised.

Damon paused, visibly thinking.

"Okay, I can see how that might be a problem. But—"

"Damon, I was attacked by a vampire, but I was saved by another. There's things that I'm uncomfortable with, like the murder and violence," she gave him a significant look at this, "it's not about just someone being a vampire, not anymore." Hating someone just for what they are no longer made sense, especially if she'd long come around to forgiving her vampire attacker.

"Understood, no murder with you on the watch." He said. Bonnie guessed that was the best she could ask for, for now at least. She could practically see the mock salute he was restraining himself from giving as it was.

Her stomach rumbled loudly, effectively ending any further conversation about his own dietary requirements, in favor of hers. Damon grinned, like human bodily needs were a lark long forgotten but still appreciated.

"My little human has to eat! I know just the place." Before she could protest, at his use of the possessive, or the nickname, he'd tucked her arm into his again and was pulling her out into and then down the street. No longer in a sheltered alcove, Bonnie didn't feel comfortable speaking as freely, about the supernatural or her feelings.

Before Bonnie knew it, they were seated at a small table and a steaming bowl of pasta was being placed in front of her. Damon only had a glass of wine. The witch gratefully dug in, nearly moaning at the taste. She'd been hungry for hours, and this, flavorful and carb-heavy, tasted a thousand times better than her slightly-smushed energy bar.

"So, are we going to talk about it?" He asked. Damon eyed the liquid in his full glass, tilting it back and forth and not meeting her eyes. Bonnie really hoped that was wine, and he hadn't brought her to some weird vintage blood bar that served Italian food.

"Talk about what?" She managed to say, after swallowing the impressive amount of pasta she'd crammed into her mouth just before he spoke.

"Your dress Bonnie. It's the same one you left in. I can smell the quarry water just drying on your petticoats. It's been a year, but you're wearing that, and you look exactly the same since you left."

"You look the same too." She pointed out.

"Do I?" Damon's head quirked to the side, and a curl fell slightly further down his forehead, framing his face artfully. That had to have been on purpose.

Bonnie had expected to see him again once she arrived in 2010, there would be no avoiding it. But despite acknowledging their similarities and shared personalities, she had separated them in her mind. A past Damon, and the future Damon. A human and a vampire. Now, to be faced with kindly-meant jokes and real concern, Bonnie didn't know how to feel. It settled uncomfortably in her chest, reminding her of the moment where he'd thanked her at the Founder's Parade. He'd been so genuinely sincere that it made her feel like the bad person between them. He was both, a vampire and a person. Plus, also someone she now cared about and who, apparently, cared about her.

"You know you do."

"But, Bonnie, as you pointed out so deliberately the night you left, you're a human, a mortal. You don't have quite the same excuse I do. You don't have any extra laugh lines, haven't lost even a single strand of hair. So unless you also took a sip off Katherine and managed to die that night, you have some explaining to do. And before you use that as an excuse, let me remind you that I can smell your very-human blood pumping through your heart." He stopped and stared at her, eyes pinning her to her seat.

"I don't know—" Bonnie started, but he didn't let her finish the sentence.

"I looked for you, did you know that? You disappeared right in front of me. I couldn't tell where you'd gone even with my senses heightened by the transition. I thought maybe…well, the quarry is so deep, and the drop off so sudden, you wouldn't be the first person to get dragged down to its bottom." Bonnie gasped; her pasta forgotten. She hadn't thought about how her disappearance must have looked to him, she'd been so focused on planning an explanation in the future. Here she was only a year later, and none of her planned words seemed to fit.

"I dove for hours. And after I'd given up, exhausted and angry because I'd managed to lose the two people in one night that I—" He broke off, angry. "Well, let's just say I realized I'd be spending more than a century, maybe the rest of my life, truly alone if I drank. I'd just about decided not to, that it wasn't worth it. But Stefan brought a girl, and I couldn't resist an open wound. And do you know what happened next?"

Bonnie nodded. He'd drank, and vowed revenge on his brother for all eternity, before Emily doubly confirmed that Katherine was safe and snug in the tomb.

"I don't think you do, because you don't look very guilty, Bonnie. I spent days at the quarry. Stopped by the house to grab Emily's kids, and made them camp right next to the edge, while I dove day after day. It's a hundred meters deep, and I'd known after the first few minutes you couldn't be in there alive. But I wanted a body. I wouldn't be getting a proper burial, and neither would any of the vampires in that church. But you, I thought, I could at least provide this one dignity for you."

Bonnie bit her lip, unsure of what she could say. She reached one hand across the table, her fingers lightly brushing over his own.

"Damon, I had no idea. I—" Her fingers had just come in contact with the cold metal and stone of his ring, when he jerked his hand back.

"Of course not, because you were already here. Weren't you?"

Bonnie sighed, part exasperation, part defeat.

"Yes, because I was already here."

"That's a neat trick, just jump in time whenever you find yourself in a sticky spot. No need to leave word about it with anyone who might be worried. How exactly does that work exactly? Can you go both ways? Did Emily make you something?" He paused, a puzzle piece finally fitting into its place. "Or was I right that night, are you really a witch as well?"

"I'm sorry that I left without any explanation. I'm not exactly sure how it works, at all. I didn't mean to leave you that night, and I definitely didn't want to end up here. I don't even know when here is!"

"April 15, 1865." Damon interjected. Bonnie floundered.

"That's less than a year!" Bonnie said. He just nodded. Right, more explanation needed. "Apparently, it's random. I don't have control over it." He didn't say a word, waiting expectantly for more. Bonnie still had no idea how the spell worked, so she gave him the only surety she had.

"Yes, I'm a witch."

Her revelation was met with a grin and a fist punched into the air in victory. Bonnie blinked at the change in his countenance.

"I knew it. I knew you weren't just some human. Stefan thinking you were a spy, pff, as if. There was always something about you and—"

"Damon, about what you did…" Bonnie started, but Damon pressed a finger to her lips to stop her.

"You said it wasn't on purpose. And what's a few days for an immortal?"

Bonnie didn't think it was that simple. The hurt in his eyes had been raw and real, and shutting it away so quickly couldn't be healthy, even for a vampire. Plus, it wasn't like he had been at the immortal thing long enough for it to factor into his perception of time.

"So what? Is it a curse? Or just the way you are? How long…you…knew…what…then Katherine…a feeling…people…of course…and you…" His words started fading you, and Bonnie squinted her eyes to try and focus the suddenly swimming room. She felt hot. No, just her chest felt hot.

"Damon ? Damon!" Bonnie reached forward, groping along the table. She couldn't feel his hand; he wouldn't pull back from her now, would he? But she couldn't feel the table either. She couldn't even feel her own hand.

"Damon, it's happening!" Bonnie said, like he couldn't see her rapidly disappearing extremities. "Damon, I'm scared. And I'm sorry." Bonnie wasn't sure she actually managed to get the words out before the chair disappeared out from under her and she found herself somewhere else entirely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title from: a journey of a thousand miles starts with a single step
> 
> Sorry to all my readers who thought this would be easy and Bonnie would land back in 2010 to find everything fixed. Magic always has a catch! Don't worry, this isn't going to be highlight reel of a bunch of famous moments in history (though you will definitely recognize at least one other...) and there will be an explanation I promise. 
> 
> Let me know what you think! Also, not joking, please review to let me know if there are any typos/grammatical errors. I can't edit on my computer screen effectively and my printer ran out of ink.


	12. cross my heart

_What we do for ourselves dies with us.  
What we do for others and the world  
remains and is immortal.  
—Albert Pine_

Bonnie hit the ground hard, her body not ready for the restaurant's chair to suddenly disappear from beneath it. Groaning and squinting, she sat up. The sun was high in the sky. And that sky was big. Bonnie looked from side to side. There were mountains in the distance, and a few hills much closer, but they hardly encroached on the sky's wide expanse. It had never looked so huge to her, anywhere she'd been in her life. Bonnie suddenly felt very small.

She was alone, with no clue to where or when she was. A cloud of dust was dissipating to her far right, and she could make out a column of white smoke far over the hills to her left. Bonnie couldn't tell how far away the smoke was, let alone what was making it. She didn't know how long she would be here; she didn't even know how long she'd been in 1865. Had she slept a few minutes in the theatre box, or a few hours? But no matter how much time she had here, she didn't want to spend it alone and exposed to the sun. Bonnie brushed off her bedraggled skirts, she really needed a change of clothes, and started making her way towards that single sign of civilization.

Luckily, Bonnie hadn't been walking long when she heard the familiar sound of thundering hooves. She could see the rider, coming up fast behind her, obviously headed towards the same smoke as Bonnie was. The rider spotted her and pulled his horse up short when he drew near. He quickly dismounted, grabbing the saddle horn to keep his mount in place.

"Are you alright Miss?" He was a young black man, only a few years older than Bonnie, and he had a friendly smile. He was dressed in a blue uniform that Bonnie thought looked pretty similar to Damon's old grey one, if she disregarded the color.

"Umm yeah. I'm okay. Could you point me towards the nearest town?" Admitting to him that she was lost and alone was a risk, but Bonnie didn't think it was too big of one. While looks could be deceiving, he seemed friendly. Plus, she could hold her own in a fight against a vampire now, so she could definitely take on a human, even if he had some old-fashioned musket tied to his saddle.

"You must be heading to Deadwood. You can sit on Betsy here; I'm heading that way myself." He kept his voice soft as he studied her intently. Bonnie had a feeling he didn't believe her when she said she was okay. Not that she would either, if she'd stumbled upon a random woman wandering alone in a dirty dress.

"That'd be great. That's definitely where I'm heading…Deadwood." Just what she needed, an ominously named town in the middle of nowhere.

"I'm Private Benjamin Wilson, Miss. Of the 7th Cavalry." He interlocked his fingers and knelt down, giving her a leg up onto the horse. "May I ask your name?"

"Of course, I'm Bonnie Be—Bonnie McCullough." She stuttered once, before offering her fake name. No one ever died from being too cautious, did they?

"Pleasure to meet you Miss Bonnie. Is anyone expecting you in town? You have somewhere to go?"

Bonnie considered lying, fabricating a family or friend. But she didn't know where they were going, and it would quickly be revealed as a falsehood once there was no one in town waiting for her. She shrugged.

"No, I don't know." Benjamin looked concerned.

"Well, maybe they were expecting you a bit earlier, before you were—before you lost your coach that is?" Bonnie agreed with as few words as possible, and avoided looking down at the soldier's inquiring face. He seemed to have crafted half a backstory for her in his head already, and she didn't want to say anything that would throw his acceptable imaginings into doubt.

"Well I'll bring you to the Green Front. I'll be honest, it's not the most respectable place, but the only other spot for a room is Mann's and they don't let folks that look like me and you through the door. Besides, Madame Dora will get you sorted out, find your folks if they're here, and have you on your…feet in no time if they're not."

This all sounded fine to Bonnie. She might not know the exact details, but she had only stayed a few hours in Washington, and she thought the trend would continue here in Deadwood, wherever that was. If she was right it meant she just had to wait around for time to pull her forward, no action needed on her part. The worst that could happen was Madame Dora wouldn't be paid for a single night's stay.

"Thank you for all your help, Private. I'm not sure what I would have done without your assistance."

"No thanks necessary Miss; I'm sure you would have made it just the same. Though I'm glad I came upon you when I did and have lessened the hardships of your trip just a bit. Look, we're almost there now."

Small homes and semi-permanent tents had begun popping up around them once they'd crested the first hill, but now Bonnie could see the main drag. It looked hastily constructed, like it too rapidly for anyone to spend longer than absolutely necessary on their shop. Bonnie eyed the few multi-story buildings along the street. It was like something out of an old Western movie. Or at least, the few minutes of one she'd managed to watch before she'd fallen asleep in Tanner's class last May.

When were those movies supposed to take place? Bonnie hadn't even thought they were real. The Wild West sounded like something that was made up by Hollywood, for some male adventure fantasy, not a place that actually existed. Bonnie added a tally mark in her running count of 'Reasons I Should Have Paid More Attention in Tanner's Class.' So far, the only item with more tally marks was 'Reasons I Should Have Paid More Attention to Grams' Few Magic Lessons.'

Once they'd reached a tall, at least compared to its squat one-story neighbors, green building Benjamin helped Bonnie off of the horse.

"Here we are, let me just get you settled and then I'll be off. I'm supposed to be waiting for a telegram for the Major." He winked, letting Bonnie know it was nothing serious, before motioning her through the open doors.

"Madame Dora, I've got a girl here for you!"

A richly dressed woman perked up from where she had been leaning against the bar.

"Where'd you steal her from, are you poaching for me from Mollie's cat shipments?"

"No, ma'am. You know it ain't like that. But I would send more security when you plan another pickup, Miss Bonnie here was set upon by bandits east of town." Bonnie tried to look appropriately pathetic upon hearing this story, and not at all surprised. She didn't even wince when Benjamin continued in a far too loud undertone. "Not much of a talker, but she's nice. Said someone might be expecting her, but I don't think so. Saw her face though, and I knew I should bring her to you."

Bonnie studied the room, pretending not to be listening to the conversation happening very much in her hearing. It was full of tables, and people were drinking liberally despite the sun's high position in the sky. Several games of cards, and one of chess, were being played at separate tables, and an old woman stamped out notes on a piano against the far wall. Young women were talking and laughing loudly throughout the room, but it wasn't until Bonnie saw one lead a rather ragged looking man upstairs that she realized where she was.

Benjamin had brought her to a brothel. Lovely.

"Well I certainly could make a pretty penny off her, and I see you'd be first in line to hand over your coins. Don't think that you'll be getting any freebies because you brought her in. But you said someone might be waiting for her? I don't want any husband coming in guns blazing because his mail-order bride's seeing every Tom, Dick, and Harry in town." Raising her voice back to a normal level, the Madame finally addressed Bonnie.

"I'm glad Benjamin was able to see you safely into town, dear. There really are some dreadful types, ready to take advantage of people in the slightest bit of need. Now, let me get you a spot of supper," she snapped her fingers and a servant appeared with a bowl of stew, "and you can tell me all about yourself. Let's start with your name, Bonnie is it?"

"Yes, Bonnie McCullough." Bonnie still had a stomach full of pasta, so she wasn't distracted by the soup. She saw the minute widening of Madame Dora's eyes, the jerk of the head of the bartender, and heard the gasp of the working girl sitting next to her.

"Did you say your name is Bonnie McCullough?" This came from the woman beside her, not the Madame. Bonnie nodded, and the girl clapped and grinned.

"Wow, it's so good to meet you. Of course, we knew you must be gorgeous, but wow. Meg was sure he was lying, that his thing just didn't work despite that pretty face, but here you are, in the flesh even."

"Um, what?"

"Don't mind Meg, she just said that because everyone knew she wanted him so bad. She was half in love with him, and offered him rolls for free, not that she was the only one mind you, but she was after him like a tax collector when he was still living here. Oh, I shouldn't have said anything. Don't hold it against her; he never took her up on it!"

"I won't?" Bonnie said hesitantly, thoroughly confused.

"Sarah, send a runner for him. Then get back to work." Dora's words cut through the excitement on Sarah's face, and she quickly went to the door.

"Please, ignore the girls. I'm afraid Mr. Salvatore caused quite a stir when he was boarding in a room here. A face like that, and he wouldn't touch a single one of them. And he didn't even have religion as an excuse, just…" She paused, considering her audience. "just you. So, we've all heard a lot about you Bonnie McCullough."

Bonnie's head spun. Damon had lived in a brothel? Okay, not that surprising. But Damon hadn't slept with all of the prostitutes, and he'd told them about her? That was.

"Well, I guess my name precedes me. You said Damon isn't living here anymore? Where is he now?" As soon as the words left her mouth Bonnie realized that the woman hadn't actually specified that it was Damon Salvatore who had lived here. For a moment she internally cursed her carelessness, but the madame didn't blink, so Bonnie brushed her concern away. It had been a safe assumption to make, she couldn't imagine Stefan living in a house of ill repute, though that would have been fun to tell Elena, Caroline, and Katherine.

"You must not have received his last letters; he's moved over to Lead. They're convinced they've found the source of the gold, and your Salvatore's invested everything in their mine. I hope you weren't expecting a palace for your wedding night. I think he's sleeping in a tent right now."

Bonnie's eyebrows shot up. Her wedding night?

"Oh, don't look so surprised. They can't build fast enough to house all the dreamers who're out here panning for gold. But your man is more determined than most. I'm sure he'll get a roof over your head soon enough or die trying. And you're always welcome to rent a room from me in the meantime. I promise to plug all the peep holes, though I'm sure the girls would love to see him in action." The Madame winked and Bonnie gaped. What was going on?

"My God, you're easy to scandalize. He must be quite the different man around you, if that was enough to make you blush. He didn't tumble any of my girls but he's certainly not been a monk. Well, I doubt that blush will last long past the wedding, so no need to be demure now. You can have the reception here, it's the biggest room between both Lead and Deadwood."

"There's not going to be a wedding." Bonnie stated, wanting to clear that confusion up immediately. All of the conversations that Bonnie hadn't realized were just pretenses to listen in on her own now fell silent. The hush spread across the room.

"You came all this way just to leave me at the altar, Bonnie?" Bonnie spun around to face the newly arrived vampire. Damon looked good. The cowboy gentlemen guise worked for him, though she was glad to see he'd skipped the hat. Everything was so…fitted. She made a note to throw out that loose leather jacket he wore in the 21st century. She'd be performing a public service. Elena might not thank her, but Carol Lockwood might give her a medal.

"Damon! You're here!" The witch said. All eyes in the room bounced back and forth between her and Damon like they were watching a tennis match.

"Yes, Bonnie, I assume you'd known that since you traveled across the country to see me." He smirked at her, and Bonnie narrowed her eyes. He definitely knew she wasn't here just to see him, so what was his angle? Did he want her to reject him in front of everyone here? What? Did he want their sympathy?

"You just got here faster than I expected, that's all." Bonnie said primly. Damon's smirk widened. He knew he held all the cards, and she would have to follow his lead. Bonnie's mouth flattened with displeasure.

"Well, lucky for the messenger boy, he caught me just down the street. I'd come to town for coffee but I seem to be collecting my fiancé instead."

Even the slow notes from the piano had stopped. Bonnie guessed that this encounter would be spread through the entire town by nightfall. Small towns were all the same in that way, no matter the century.

Damon raised an eyebrow when she failed to respond and took one step farther into the parlor. Bonnie didn't know what game he was playing, or why he needed an absentee fiancé for it, but she hated being used and she hated being kept in the dark. Bonnie was going to make him regret using her unawares. Go big or go home.

She hopped up from the bar stool she had been perched on and rushed towards him. She saw him shift, bracing himself for a slap. She stood directly in front of him.

"Lucky for me as well. I didn't think I'd get to see you so soon." And with that, Bonnie threw her arms around his neck, tugged his face down, and pressed her lips against his.

It was more of an old-Hollywood style movie kiss than anything real. She'd shoved her face into his, lots of pressure, very little movement. But that soon changed. Damon wasn't going to take anything sitting down. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her waist against him and angled his face further downwards. He pulled away a millimeter for just a moment.

"Nice to see you too, little witch," he murmured, before his lips were on hers once more. And they weren't still this time. His lips coaxed hers open, as his hand bowed her backwards. Bonnie couldn't breathe, she couldn't think. This was not supposed to happen, and she was not supposed to like it.

She zapped him. Not hard, but he pulled back after feeling the sharp spark of electricity. He grinned down at her, like she had played completely into his hands.

"Now what was that you were saying about not marrying me?" This drew raucous laughter from their audience, and Bonnie became very aware of the spectacle she'd just participated in.

"Well, not anytime soon. This is just a stopover, I'm not staying."

"We'll just have to make the most of the time we have then." He leaned back in, and Bonnie expected another kiss, but he only grabbed her hands, unwinding them from around his neck. How had she not realized they were still there? Why was she letting one stupid kiss, that she started, mess with her mind like this?

"Thanks for looking out for my girl, Dora!" Damon said, and with an irreverent wave to the rest of the women and patrons, he pulled Bonnie from the building.

"You could have let me finish the soup," Bonnie grumbled.

"Don't be ridiculous, you just had the pasta from a decade ago. I could taste it." Bonnie winced. She was so looking forward to her mouthwash and electric toothbrush when she got home. And never kissing the vampire again, that too of course.

"Still, seems a bit rude to leave like that." She said. Did they have mouthwash now? Whenever now was? Damon hadn't tasted like pasta, or blood. She'd definitely tasted mint.

"Oh, I'm sorry Bonnie, I didn't realize you wanted to spend your time at the local brothel. Thinking of taking up the trade yourself? Or were you buying?"

Bonnie had half a mind to say she was, that she planned to hire the whole house of prostitutes, but she wanted answers more than she wanted to win a battle of traded barbs.

"No, but they were friendly at least, and they seemed to know me. You want to explain that?"

"Not really."

"Damon." She stopped. He'd kept hold of one of her hands when they left the Green Front, so she was forcing him to stop in the middle of the road. Of course, he could pull her along, or throw her over his shoulder, with force, but he didn't. He'd probably learned not to mess with witches. Bonnie was hardly the only one who could dole out aneurisms.

"Okay, okay, fine. Here's the deal. I needed a place to stay, Madame Dora had a room. But look at my face, no one could resist this." Bonnie looked up, beseeching some higher power to intervene at the arrogance, but didn't interrupt herself. "And here, I am, thinking I've gotten the best deal of my life. A place to live, and willing food to eat. But none of them taste right, they've all got something, and I can only cure so many people with my blood before I'm losing more than I'm drinking, especially when they work another night and just catch syphilis again!"

"Are you serious right now?" She asked, but she allowed him to lead her again.

"Yes! It's a problem Bonnie, a national health crisis, and a food crisis for me. Anyway, I've given up on them, and compelled them to forget any interactions we've had."

Bonnie shuddered, the power of compulsion spooked her more than any vampire strength or bloodlust.

"I still don't see where I come into this." He could have started a campaign for safe sex in Deadwood, it's not like anyone here would care if condoms were legal or not, but instead he'd told everyone that he was engaged. To Bonnie.

"Well I had to come up with a reason about why I wasn't partaking at Madame Dora's, or Mollie's, or the half dozen other establishments in Deadwood." Damon said, as if this were a perfectly satisfactory explanation.

"You couldn't just compel them not to be interested in you while you were erasing their memories?"

"Come on, Bonnie, look at me. I would've had to compel everyone in town to believe that big of a lie, and we've established my blood supply has been limited."

"So you made up a fiancé?"

"Bingo! It really worked better than I imagined it would. Everyone loves a good love story."

"I'd think Katherine would fit your story just as well then."

"Well Katherine won't be conveniently showing up to corroborate my story, now will she? Besides, talking about Katherine makes me sad," He gave her an overexaggerated pout. Bonnie punched his arm, and the muscle didn't give a millimeter. "Ah careful Bonnie, you've already committed to my story. Don't go giving away the lie by treating me so harshly. We're desperately in love, you know?" He batted his eyes at her.

"I think you'll be the one having trouble keeping up the lie. I'm pretty sure your act earlier wasn't lovestruck. And you'll have to explain my disappearance tomorrow."

"You're sure you'll be gone by tomorrow? Last time I saw you, you said you had no control over any of it."

"I honestly have no idea. I was supposed to go straight back home, but it seems like my magic isn't strong enough to make a single jump again." This was Bonnie's current theory. Emily was all about careful plotting and slow poured foundations. she'd slapped Bonnie on as a rider to the tomb spell after a few minutes of preparations and a whole lot of winging it. Bonnie should not be surprised it didn't go perfectly.

Emily had compared her first trip back as an explosion in a mountainside. Uncontrolled, and liable to cause an avalanche. Now, Bonnie was a stone skipping across time. Touching the surface for just a moment before being pulled away. The metaphor made her nervous; stones only skip so many times before they fall beneath the surface. How many arcs did she have left before that happened? When she sunk, would she be in her own time or somewhere else entirely?

"Home?" Bonnie thought about skirting the truth, or outright lying to him. He didn't know how magic worked, and he'd previously thought that her time travel was just an escape method. She resisted the strong desire she felt to pull out the bloodstone. Small, smooth, and flat. A perfect stone for skipping.

"I'm originally from the future. A spell…backfired on me and sent me to the past, to you. I'd just arrived when you found me in the woods that day, with Stefan and Katherine."

"You knew my name already! I thought Katherine had written you…but you must have already known us."

"Yeah, I did."

"All three of us. Which means I get the tomb open when the comet comes back around. But you're human. And young." He dropped her arm and took a step back from her. "Your grandparents haven't even been born yet. I'll be ancient, and you'll be just the same."

"You'll look the same in 2010, don't worry about it."

"I don't know Bonnie, it feels wrong now. Like I'm engaged to a baby."

"I'm seventeen, old man, not a baby."

"Oh my God, seventeen. You're the same age as my baby brother. This is the worst." Bonnie laughed at his dramatics. He came to a stop by the last horse on the post. He didn't bother giving her a leg up, he just lifted her by the waist and trusted her to swing her leg over at the right moment. Bonnie settled into the saddle, and Damon untied his horse and began to lead her down the main road out of town.

"I guess we'll just have to break it off then. Good thing you didn't buy me a ring. I'm sure if you shed a few tears, they'll give you free drinks for the rest of the day back at the hotel."

"Bonnie, I can't just let this go. They all think you're the reason I'm even out here in the first place. Our marriage would be illegal in Virginia, but here in the Dakota Territory I can make my fortune and make you my wife." Dakota Territory? This was the farthest Bonnie had ever been from Mystic Falls, but she refocused on his words. Damon was living outside of the U.S. and claiming it was because he wanted an interracial marriage.

"You're really committed to this, huh?" He nodded, almost earnestly. The lack of shame was astounding. Bonnie thought about Damon ingratiating himself into the town council in the future, and his odd friendship with Sheriff Forbes. He liked to be important, and he liked to be liked. But he also had fun pretending to be someone he was not; Bonnie could only assume that this was why he choose her for a backstory. Talking about Katherine would have been too real. There was no need to focus on his choice any further. It meant nothing.

"Whatever, you're the one worried about being a cradle robber. Why are you here anyway? Because I know it has nothing to do with marriage."

"I'm here for the gold Bonnie! There's tons of it, just beneath our feet, just waiting for me to get it." Bonnie didn't think Damon could be motivated by anything as boring as money. In 2010, he was either a hedonistic figure, or one motivated solely by a lost-love. In 1864, he was all passion; protection for Stefan, love for Katherine, hate for Giuseppe. To find out he was currently dedicating his life to gold was pretty disappointing.

"Gold, really? You can't just use compulsion to get whatever you want?"

"Tut, tut Bonnie, now you're encouraging my bad habits? How unlike you. Besides, I've got a lot of time on my hands, I need something to fill it."

"And mining was what you chose?"

"Me and Stefan used to talk about going West together, us and our mom on a wagon bound for glory," For a moment Damon looked wistful, "of course I am having a much better time than I would with my wet blanket of a brother hanging around."

"I'm sure."

"And it's always been a dream to sleep on an actual pile of gold. I could sneak into Fort Knox, and maybe I will, but it won't be the same."

"Are you a vampire or a dragon?"

Damon laughed. "Says the witch who I've never even seen do magic." Bonnie was not about to let a challenge go unmet. She leaned over him. Damon didn't drop his gaze, and Bonnie felt…powerful.

"You want to see magic?" Damon swallowed and nodded. Bonnie flicked her eyes away from his for a second. "Turn around." She ordered him.

They'd left the town behind, entering the empty foothills that Bonnie had arrived near. Damon turned, and saw the brush behind him was alight with fire.

He stared for a moment before speaking.

"A burning bush, Bonnie? How biblical." It was a bit more than a single burning bush, and there was nothing heavenly about it, but Damon was determined to be glib. Bonnie snapped her fingers, not necessary but still a nice touch, and the fire went out instantly. The brush smoked but didn't look too worse for wear.

"Believe me now?"

"I always believed you, I always knew…I just wanted to see it for myself." He stood at her side, his face level with her thigh, looking up at her. His pupils were blown, despite the sun, and his gaze heavy with wonder. It was heady, but Bonnie would rather have his friendship than his awe.

"Hoarding knowledge and gold? I notice you dodged my dragon question."

"Still a vampire, just a greedy one. Besides, I have to have something to buy the manor with."

"The manor? Like, your old house?"

"Yup. Can't use compulsion for this one, Alessandro and his family are all soaked to the gills with vervain, not grateful in the least."

"Why do you want to buy it?"

"Not to keep the grand old pile, if that's what you're thinking. No, I'm going to burn it down, with all of my father's prized possessions still inside it."

"Couldn't you just do that now? You don't exactly have to be invited in to throw a burning bottle through a window." Why did Bonnie ask things like that? It was practically encouraging him!

"I'm not going to kill off Alessandro, not when I went through so much effort to save his life," Her raised brow conveyed more impatience than curiosity, "okay, so giving him a little blood to cure his ailments wasn't exactly strenuous. But you should be impressed, I saved his life, Stefan had killed our father just a few hours before. Vampires: we contain multitudes."

"Good job, Damon, for not wanting to kill at least one of your brothers. Even if you plan to make him homeless."

"You just heard I'm planning on paying him for the house in gold, I'm sure he'll be able to find another place to carry on the Salvatore name and legacy."

Bonnie felt a bit bad for pestering him. She reminded herself that this Damon didn't carry the sins of his future self, and hadn't been an unfeeling vampire for more than a century. She could see the life in his eyes still, he hadn't flipped that switch.

"Alright, I'll support you and your gold dreams than, though I think I should get something in return, at least for backing up your ridiculous story."

"More ridiculous than vampires and witches? But sure, what do you want? You can't bind me as the eternal guardian of your line, I've already promised that one away to a different witch." Bonnie snorted.

"Well your first-born child is traditional, but obviously not available. And I should ask you for a ring, but I'd rather not carry this charade on beyond this town. So how about a necklace? You can sacrifice a few ounces of your hoard to make me a necklace, right?"

"Your wish is my command."

"Yeah, I'll believe it when I see it. Where are we going anyway?"

"Nowhere, we're here. You're going to stay by this nice little tree with my horse, while I go get my dinner."

"Why are we in the middle of nowhere then? Are you hunting buffalo?"

"Ha! I see you heard about Stefan's ridiculous diet. No, animals are only for when things are really desperate around here. Mostly I get by with clean clergymen and homesteaders. But the army has just rolled through, so there's a feast just across the bank of the river."

"What are you talking about?"

"Well, the Lakota haven't been too pleased with the expansion of the town and there have been a few lost supply wagons, torched farms, a half dozen attacks on Americans moving out here. I keep tabs on the situation, so I know when Washington sends their boys out to deal with the problem." He breathed in deeply, and his eyes grew darker, and slightly hazier. Bloodlust. "Not that I would have needed it today. You can smell the blood for miles. I wouldn't be surprised if I have company."

"Company? Like, other vampires?"

"There's a few of us out here, and we're all trying to stay under the radar. People tend to go missing out here, but not that many, so we like to take advantage of the government sanctioned blood bathes." He had tied his horse to one of the low branches of the tree and run a soothing hand down its neck as Bonnie dismounted. He cocked his head, listening.

"I don't hear anyone else yet. So I guess you can take a look. Don't get too close, one twitch of a tomahawk and you'd lose your toes."

Bonnie followed him up the incline but stopped short when she reached the precipice of the hill. The small valley was filled with bodies. Even Bonnie could smell the blood now, and the gunpowder. Her body rejected the sight and she bent double, throwing up her pasta.

"Yeah, not very pretty. I better get to it; they won't keep long in this weather." He patted her once on the back, ending it with a stroke reminiscent of how he'd comforted the horse. Bonnie caught his arm before he could make his way into the valley.

"You can't drink from them! This is wrong, they should be buried."

"There's no one left to bury them. If I don't drink from them, their blood just goes to waste in the sun. It'll turn rancid soon, Bonnie. Would you rather I kill someone new so their blood is fresher?" Bonnie just managed to swallow her next gag and she let go of his wrist. For all the times she bemoaned the lack of refrigeration in 1864, she'd never given thought to this. No fridge, no blood bags.

"Why did you bring me here?"

"Well I couldn't leave you in town, and then have to explain why you disappeared from a locked room without a trace. But go back to the horse Bonnie, I doubt you want to see me gorge myself."

Bonnie wanted to go back to the horse and the tree and forget this happened. She could see the dark blood Damon was struggling to suppress beneath his eyes. She could see the dozens of torn bodies, some of them those of children, below her. She could turn her back, and let Damon drink people who had already lost their lives. If she stopped him, he would kill someone else to eat. But if she walked away from this, and just forgot, what would that say about her?

"Fine. I won't stop you." Damon rolled his eyes, like it was never in question. "But we're not just leaving them like this. You can dig and drink at the same time." With that, Bonnie made her way down the hill, and began digging herself.

Bonnie would never be as talented as Emily when it came to earth and stone, but her ancestor had taught her a lot about how a witch interacts with each element. The graves she opened in the Earth were not the perfectly cornered rectangles that Emily could have undoubtably made, but they were deep and neat. She'd made a line of ten before she looked up and found Damon beside her. He held a shovel, which Bonnie had no idea how he'd gotten, and was rapidly digging a hole.

Bonnie didn't know the burial practices of the Lakota, and she wouldn't want to try and imitate it. So she murmured the cleansing spells she could and hoped that their spirits could find peace.

They continued like this for hours. Even with their supernaturally rapid digging, it was a large job. Every so often Bonnie saw Damon take a wrist to his mouth before he set the corpse in the grave. She refused to look away. She looked at their faces, trying to imagine them without the frozen fear and despair on their features. What had their lives been like?

Bonnie brushed a lock of hair out of her face, and felt her wet cheeks. How long had she been crying?

"I hope you know that I'm using almost as much energy as I'm gaining because of your morals Bonnie. They're horribly inconvenient."

Bonnie didn't immediately respond, searching her mind, trying to formulate how to tell Damon what she felt when she looked at humans that could have been anyone, could have been her. Caught in a war and crushed by an uncaring greater power. How should she tell him that at one point in her life, he would be that uncaring power. Bonnie's only advantage, her saving grace, was her magic. How had she ever thought she could give that up?

Her magic allowed their roles to be flipped. She'd held the power. She had weighed his life in her hands and found him wanting. It was only Elena's pleading that saved his life. Bonnie stood next to the line of graves she'd dug.

"Morality is inconvenient, but it's the only thing that makes us human."

Bonnie met Damon's eyes. She expected him to protest, to remind her that he was no longer human, but he didn't. His eyes looked haunted. They reminded Bonnie of the first real conversation they'd had in 1864, about the nature of war. How many graves had Damon dug in his human life? How many had he failed to dig as a vampire?

"Promise me you'll finish this, Damon. Forget the necklace. This is my price." He nodded, once sharply. And Bonnie opened another hole in the ground. She wanted to say something else, to explain her own struggle, or make clear why it was so important that people be allowed to retain some dignity after death.

But before she could try to articulate any of this to Damon, she felt the burn of the stone, the snap of a cord, and she was pulled through time again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title from: cross my heart and hope to die
> 
> visual aid for how Damon feels as Bonnie leans off the horse to look down on him found [here](https://cinqjours.tumblr.com/post/625225052120645632/frank-dicksee-the-beautiful-lady-without-mercy).
> 
> just discovered that in the original version of this, the starter quote was from a Lil Wayne [song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y8Gf4-eT3w0). Because that fit.  
> 


	13. the devil you don't

_Knowledge forbidden?  
Suspicious, reasonless. Why should their Lord  
Envy them that? Can it be a sin to know?  
Can it be death?  
-John Milton_

Bonnie fell to her hands and knees onto hard stone. She was now severely magically and emotionally exhausted. She just wanted to curl up in front of a large fire with a cup of hot chocolate and forget everything.

Unfortunately, no fire burned in the room she found herself in. A string of lines, harsh and unforgiving compared to the dancing flames she’d long grown used to, coldly lit the stone chamber.

“Hello there.” Bonnie whipped her head up, looking into the eyes of the man crouching next to her. He wore a light grey three-piece suit carelessly. It was expertly tailored yet rumpled. His cheekbones caught the light when he tilted his head, studying her like a bug under a microscope. His accent was British, but wrong. It was too careful, especially when compared to his suit. Bonnie didn’t bother answering. He didn’t want a conversation. Powerful men never did.

Bonnie broke eye contact and took in the room more fully. The room was circular. Roughhewn stone made up the floor and the rounded walls. Surrounding Bonnie and the crouching man were a number of bodies. A few, Bonnie saw, were still twitching, dying in front of her from the deep slashes across their throats.

Bonnie made an abortive attempt to reach the person closest to her, an old woman whose extended arm was only feet from the witch, but her body was stopped before she made it an inch. The besuited man had clamped a hand around her shoulder, keeping her in place.

“Now, if I didn’t know any better, I might think my little ritualistic sacrifice summoned you.” Bonnie had started when she touched Stefan for the first time, and it had taken a while for her to get used to the shadowy psychic imprint of Damon. This man’s touch was something else. His soul was twisted up in itself and drenched in centuries of blood. Bonnie now knew for certain that he was a vampire, and she threw an aneurism his way. He didn’t even blink.

“Ah, ah, ah. No need for any unfriendly brain tickles. But that certainly answers the question of what you are. But how did you get here?” He asked. His face hadn’t lost its friendliness, but that didn’t set Bonnie at ease. He was stronger than anything she’d ever even read about, let alone faced. What could she do but answer?

“I don’t know, I don’t even know where here is.” He leaned in even closer, his nose almost brushing hers.

“Hmm. At least half of that was true.” He withdrew so fast there wasn’t even a blur. One moment he was crouching next to her, and the next he was standing across the room. He turned to his right. “Any ideas Analise?” Bonnie blinked at his sudden distance, and cautiously began to straighten into a kneel. She could now see the only other living being in the room. Another witch, maybe ten years older than her in appearance, with shockingly white hair.

“It should have worked, please I thought it would work.” It was apparent that the woman had already been crying for some time, but now tears poured down her face. A book, a grimoire fell from her hands as she clasped them together, shaking them in front of her as if praying. Not to God, but to this man. “Please, I’ve sacrificed everything. My family, my coven, it has to have worked!”

“Shh, shh, shh. There, there. I know you did.” He stroked a hand down her hair in comfort.

Bonnie slowly stood to her full height, assessing her options. Having her feet under her again gave her more confidence, but not much. She could taste the ozone of spent magic in the air. It wasn’t just the magic of one witch, even one at the height of their power. She remembered the pages in her grimoire that Emily had tried to gloss over. Passages about the transfer of power, willing and unwilling, between witches. These people had died to give Analise the power for something. And even with the power of a more than a dozen dead and dying witches at her back, it was clear Analise had not succeeded.

Bonnie looked directly up, but even craning her neck, she couldn’t see the ceiling, just a spiral of shining lights, growing smaller and smaller. A set of stairs started at one end of the room, and extended up and into the darkness. Were they at the bottom of some kind of well?

“Please Klaus, I can try again, maybe if we find the moonstone! With that, we—”

“I think you know it’s too late for that, dear.” Klaus spoke as if he were addressing a small child. Calm in the face of an illogical tantrum.

“No! Plea—” Analise turned away from his comforting arm, as if to make for the stairs, but Klaus grabbed her by the back of the neck. No, Bonnie saw, by the spine. In a second he had ripped it from her body and tossed it aside. He caught her torn open body in his arms, and bit into her neck, drinking deeply.

Bonnie wasn’t waiting around to see more. She ran for the stairs and started up them two at a time. She looked back once, to see that he wasn’t following her, but she didn’t slow. Bonnie still couldn’t see the top, and the stairs continued to spiral upwards. She was out of breath, but her adrenaline kept her body moving.

She glanced down, back into the room, but she could no longer see the vampire. The white of Analise’s splayed hair was glowed against the stone floors where she now lay, open and alone. Where was Klaus?

“Sorry about the delay, but witch blood just has that extra zest to it. And you are almost never inclined to give it up freely, so I can’t let it go to waste while it’s fresh.”

Bonnie froze in terror. He was poised on the step two above her, hand extended like a courtly lord. His suit, previously disheveled, was now covered in blood. The blood looked more at home on his skin than the suit did.

“Come now, you can see that you’ve made hardly any progress on your own, and you won’t be leaving here without me, so we might as well set aside this dreadful unpleasantness and get on with it.” The vampires said. Bonnie felt choked with fear. She couldn’t help it, Klaus wore it like a cloak, a miasma of terror.

She took his hand, and he hooked her arm around his.

“Now that’s better. Now let’s go, the ice boys will be down here soon to keep them fresh, and the stairs are already narrow for just us two.” Bonnie blinked her eyes and they were at the top of the stairs, the room they’d come from a distant disk of light beneath them. It was not like running with Damon when he was in transition, or even the leap she’d taken with Stefan when he had one hundred and sixty years behind him. This was beyond fast. They’d made it up the stairs instantly.

“I’m guessing your little ritual didn’t work then? Shame.” Came a voice from ahead of them.

A beautiful blonde woman with a nasty look on her face stood in the center of the opulent room. She wore a slim cut dress with huge puffed sleeves. Like Klaus, she spoke in a clipped British accent.

“Not now, Rebekah. Your brother has business to attend to.” The blonde rolled her eyes.

“Oh how I pity you, cursed to live as only one of the most powerful beings in the world.” Rebekah commented drolly, “Try not to kill this one too quickly, I’m off to look at boats and feel nostalgic.” Rebakah swiftly exited to the room, leaving Bonnie alone with Klaus once more. She didn’t know if she should be disappointed or relieved. 

“Don’t mind her. Turns out her most recent infatuation is married twice over. And a serial murderer, but she’s more miffed about the bigamy.” He poured himself a glass from a crystal decanter. Bonnie wondered if all vampires took the same intro to aesthetics lesson after they turned.

He took a seat on one of the crushed velvet couches, and gestured for Bonnie to do the same. She sat as far away from him as possible, on a spindly chintz chair at the edge of the seating arrangement. It might have been the familiar glass of whisky, but Bonnie felt her terror easing. Has she imagined the visceral dread that surrounded Klaus? Or could he just switch it on and off as he pleased?

“But back to business, you are something of an enigma. That was not a summoning ritual, for a witch or anything else. But somehow, as our dearly departed Analise was crying over her dead brethren and her own failure, and I was just giving up hope of an interesting decade, you,” He snapped his fingers and the sound cracked sharply through the air, “appeared before my very eyes. Smelling of death, and grief, and magic.”

He paused for dramatic effect, clearly enjoying the sound of his own voice. Bonnie wrung her hands, hoping that her luck would come through for once and take her away from this place immediately.

“How would you explain that?” Klaus said. He hadn’t asked for her input the entire time, so Bonnie was a bit surprised he was looking for answers from her. She’d thought he would monologue on his hypothesis until he felt like killing her.

“I told you, I don’t know.” Bonnie answered.

“And I told you I didn’t believe you. Try again.” He insisted. Bonnie really didn’t know how to explain the spell, and she also didn’t want a vampire this powerful to find out that time travel was possible. Maybe she could provide him answers to some other puzzle, and he would be distracted?

“What was the ritual for?” Bonnie asked as she tried to visualize what symbols she’d seen on the floor. Unfortunately, most of the runes had been at least partially covered by blood or the bodies of the witches killed to power them. She remembered the rune for lock, for power, and the ragged strokes of one that indicated vampires. Klaus had been standing on top of the rune for union. Emily had that rune carved on her wedding band, more binding than the human laws that kept her from her husband, and Bonnie knew its curves well. She remembered how Emily had taken it off each time she went to spy on Jonathan Gilbert.

Bonnie doubted that it had anything to do with marriage for Klaus.

“And why would I tell you that?”

“Neither of us know how exactly I got into your…basement,” Not a lie, Bonnie’s knowledge of the spell was woefully inadequate for someone who was using it to pull her through decades of time. She really needed to do more than skim the magical theory books once she got back home. “But if we share what we know, maybe we could figure it out. I was in South Dakota before I showed up here. And I’d like to get back home as soon as possible.” Klaus studied her over the rim of his tumbler, weighing her statements and heartbeat.

“Okay, I’ll bite.” He winked at his pun. His moods were more mercurial than Damon’s, and more frightening. “I’m trying to break a curse.”

“What kind of curse?” She pressed.

The runes flashed before Bonnie’s eyes again. And the drained and dead witches followed them. A spell for union. Could he have been trying to gain the power of the coven, to wield magic as well as immortality? Was that even possible? But why would he be bringing up a curse now?

“An old and big one, cast by an Aztec shaman. It’s what causes vampires to burn in the sun, and werewolves to be reliant on the moon.” That didn’t exactly fit with what Bonnie had seen, but a lot of the runes had been hidden or covered. Bonnie didn’t have any idea what the symbol for werewolves would be, but she had seen the one for vampires.

Also an Aztec shaman cursing them just didn’t seem right. When were the Aztecs even around? Bonnie really wished she had Stefan’s head for dates.

“And Analise was trying to help you break it? Why?” Bonnie asked. She knew history would never be her forte, so focusing on the witch aspect seemed to be her best bet. If witches were interested in breaking the spell, maybe there was more to it than a curse on the two types of supernatural monsters.

“Money, power, glory, fear. The usual motivations for humans.” Or maybe witches were as motivated by greed as ordinary people were. Back to history.

“Was the curse pre-European contact? I’ve been wondering if vampirism was in the Americas or Europe before Columbus sailed, or if it was already on both continents before that—" Bonnie rambled before Klaus cut her off. The Columbian exchange was one of the only things she remembered from history class, and that was mostly because they’d had a project to make a meal using food from only one side of the exchange. Luckily, Caroline had been her partner, and she’d gotten full credit for a barley bread she hadn’t ever touched.

“Columbus was hardly the first European to land on American shores; things aren’t so neat as the history books or this silly fair make it out to be. But none of that matters. It was the attempted breaking, not the making, of the curse that brought you here.” He was pretty blasé about the origins of a curse he’d been trying to break. Then again, it could hardly be that important to him. She could feel the trace of magic around the ring on his finger. He was a daywalker, and so was his sister. They were already safe from the sun. Maybe breaking this curse was just a hobby he got obsessive about in his old age.

“The making and breaking of curses are nearly always one in the same.” Bonnie thought of the crystal and bloodstone, both intrinsic pieces of the binding on the Fell’s Church tomb, and how it broke her grandmother to remove that spell without them. And this curse, over two species of beings that had lasted for centuries, would be much, much more powerful. “Is there anything from the original ritual you know of? Maybe a stone or—?” Her words were cut off by his vice grip around her neck. She gasped for air but could barely inhale through the restriction.

“Now I know where I know you from. You’re the witch that got away from me all those years ago. I made sure one of them was burned at the stake for helping Katerina, but you got away. Tell me, are you a Bennett too? No one seemed to know where you’d come from. A habit of yours it seems.” Bonnie didn’t know what he was talking about. Who was Katerina?

“Hmm, you’re awfully well preserved for a fifty-year-old, even for a witch, were you hoping to make it to the next comet pass?” He drew her in closer. “You won’t. Not as a witch. I can turn you right now, and we can wait together. Because you should know, witch, I’ll be waiting at that tomb a century from now. And when that pathetic Salvatore finally has it cracked open I will kill Katerina Petrova myself. And this time, the doppelganger will not wake up. Now, how does a little blood sound?” Bonnie shook her head desperately. Once he’d mentioned the comet and tomb, she understood he must be talking about Mystic Falls. Katerina Petrova must be Katherine. Only she could provoke such visceral emotion in vampires.

Emily had burned at the stake for helping Katherine. Bonnie had feared as much, after her ancestor’s goodbye, but to have it confirmed this way was terrible. Bonnie could only picture Ruthie’s face, the last time she had seen Emily’s daughter. Bonnie had assured the little girl that she and her mother would handle any flames, that Ruthie didn’t have to worry about them. But Emily didn’t even use magic to snuff out her candles, and Bonnie had already been gone.

He hadn’t made a move to open one of his veins yet, but he was hardly predictable. And she didn’t want to become a vampire. Especially not now, like this. The puzzle pieces coming together were overshadowed by Bonnie’s fear of his strength. She could only imagine what had happened to Emily and it was because of this monster.

“No!” She bucked against his grip, felt the friction burn from his unyielding palm against her neck. She would not feed or be fed on by a vampire against her will, not ever again. “No!” She didn’t try to do any delicate work, popping blood vessels in his brain had been completely ineffective. Instead she pushed. The sliver of air between her neck and his hand solidified in her mind, and she pushed with everything she had.

Klaus’s hand snapped away from her throat. His wrist and fingers were all bent backwards. Bonnie didn’t stop to admire her work, she continued pushing, throwing him bodily away from her. He hit the couch he’d previously sat on, snapping it in half, but was already standing before Bonnie could take another breath. Her plan to blast him back with a ball of fire was interrupted by the entrance of yet another vampire.

“Klaus, must you always be so uncivilized? There are fewer and fewer witches in Chicago willing to work for us. We can’t be so rude to the ones we mean to keep alive.” The man who spoke seemed the opposite of Klaus in every way. His dark suit and hair were both perfectly in place.

“And why would I keep this one alive? She’s just hardly worth the effort it would take to kill her.”

“Yet you haven’t killed her, despite your injuries brother. I assumed that was for a reason.”

“She’s a curiosity. A four-leaf clover, a stone skipped seven times, a black cat in my path, but nothing important”

“Three superstitions for one witch, Klaus? You’ve tipped your hand. Who is she?”

“If you must know, she’s an associate of our runaway. I didn’t notice at first, but look at her, Elijah. Doesn’t she match the daguerreotype perfectly? She’s Katerina’s other little witch friend.” The new arrival’s eyes flashed at Katerina’s name. In anger? Or something else? Bonnie almost groaned aloud, had Katherine been entangled with another pair of brothers? Ones that were even older and more powerful? And now Bonnie had to deal with the fall out. Typical.

“Even more reason to keep her alive, as I have questions about events during my…indisposition.” Klaus, so set on killing her a minute ago, just shrugged and went to pour himself another glass of liquor.

“Alright, alright. But keep a tight hold on that one; she’s slippery.” His back was turned to them, and Elijah brandished the cane he was holding, indicating she should step out the door to his right. Considering the only other door was the one Bonnie came through, from the underground ritual silo, she didn’t protest.

“Please excuse my brother, his passions tend to run high when he lingers on certain subjects.”

“And Katherine is one of those?” A flicker of confusion passed across his face before it smoothed once more.

“Yes, you must have known her as Katherine Pierce. I have heard of her exploits in Virginia. And I’d very much like—” He cut himself off, hesitating. Klaus could still hear their conversation. “to discuss them with you. But first, you must refresh yourself. I am sure my sister won’t begrudge you one frock. She has lost many of her own to stubborn bloodstains after all.” 

He led her to a room that seemed barely touched, but it had multiple wardrobes bursting with dresses. 

“I’ll send a servant up to help with your hair. Please, help yourself to a change of clothes. Rebekah won’t notice.” He shut the door behind him as he left, secure in his own power and her helplessness.

Bonnie tore through the closet, picking out dresses that seemed the most durable. She skipped the bright yellows and reds; she’d rather not use anything so eye-catching.

When Elijah had been gone for half an hour and no compelled servant appeared, Bonnie felt more confident in her project. These vampires were far older than any she encountered, and Bonnie thought they might have a different perception of time. Maybe it would take them days to remember the witch they had locked in an upstairs bedroom. Or maybe they would be back in minutes. Bonnie wasn’t waiting to find out.

Elijah had hinted that they were in Chicago, but it looked nothing like the windy city she’d seen on television. Instead, it reminded her of Washington D.C. There were a number of bright white buildings, all lit up, with columns and domes. In the far distance, she could just make out the slow revolutions of a Ferris wheel. Maybe she could sneak a ride on it after she escaped. Seeing the city from that height would be a memory to balance out the horrible tableau she’d arrived to. 

With minimal tearing, a series of haphazard knots, and some liberally placed sticking spells, Bonnie had created a rope from Rebekah’s dresses. Much to her frustration, she still hadn’t found any pants. Pushing her frustration at the blonde’s fashion sense aside, Bonnie found the most simple dress of the bunch and laid it out on the bunch. Tearing off her own underskirts and the supporting structure was a relief, but she couldn’t reach the back buttons, let alone the underlying ties of her stay.

Bonnie looked longingly at the new dress. It didn’t look comfortable, not compared to any lounge wear she had back home, but it was at least clean. She’d been wearing her current dress for days, and she wanted out. She’d just have to cut herself out of it or, if there was no knife to be found, burn it off.

Bonnie had only searched the first armoire when she heard the steps coming down the hall. They were too heavy to belong to a vampire. Maybe the servant Elijah had promised? Probably a human, and not a threat, but they could easily call for help. Bonnie had seen how fast these vampires moved. They would be at her door after the first syllable left the servant’s mouth. She’d have to go now.

Bonnie threw one last glance at the clean and waiting dress on the bed, but clean clothes weren’t worth imprisonment or death. She went for the window. Luckily, it wasn’t painted shut, and she easily undid the latch.

She’d just climbed onto the ledge when she heard the first light knock on the door to the room. How polite, knocking at her prison cell as if she were a guest. Bonnie looked down.

She couldn’t detect any magic keeping her bound to the room or the building, but she found it hard to believe that the vampires were relying completely on her fear to keep her caged. Bonnie’s fear was telling her that staying with these men was the last thing she wanted to do. Their stories didn’t add up, and their disregard for the lives of witches was disturbing. She couldn’t be the next Analise.

She’d abandoned her skirts and stockings when she thought she was going to change. But Bonnie didn’t have time to consider the delicate sensibilities of the people below her on the street. Surely they’d be distracted by her climbing down the side of the building and wouldn’t notice her near complete lack of underthings.

She gripped the end of her makeshift rope, hoping that the bed would be heavy enough to provide a counterweight as there was nothing else to tie the other end to in the room.

Down on the street, a man tossed his bowler hat away. Bonnie couldn’t make out his face, to tell if the toss was in anger or celebration, but the inky black color of his hair was familiar, even without its old curls. Bonnie’s pulse calmed. She now knew someone in the city and would not have to struggle through this time alone. He wouldn’t be able to fight Klaus, Elijah, or Rebekah, but he would help her run.

“Damon!” He turned, and she pushed off from her seat at the ledge of the window. She’d barely rappelled down a single story when she felt it: the stripping away of magic, of her sticking charms and her protection spells. Her rope would not hold, and when she hit the ground her bones would break horribly. They’d set up a barrier, not to hold her in, but to eliminate any magical tools she might use to escape.

Maybe it was shock, or fear at her impending impact, or maybe the barrier that stripped the rope of her spells also stripped away the tether holding her to this time, or maybe it was all three, or even something else entirely. It didn’t matter. One rope split apart and another one frayed and snapped.

She had just a glimpse of Damon’s confused face before her vision went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh the daguerreotype strikes again! That’s the name of the type of photograph that Stefan has of Katherine. I imagine a visiting photographer came through Mystic Falls, and all of the respectable families had him stop in and take their portraits, Bonnie and Katherine included. Of course, then it was left behind for the Mikaelsons to find as they hunted for their doppelganger. 
> 
> This chapter takes place in 1893, during Chicago's World Fair/Columbian Exposition. It featured a replica of a  
> [Viking long ship](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Viking_\(replica_Viking_longship\)) that 12 Norwegians sailed over the Atlantic, through the Eerie Canal, and across the Great Lakes to get to the fair grounds. Hence, Rebekah's plan to look at boats and feel nostalgic.  
> Rebekah's beau was, of course, the first serial killer in the United States, [H. H. Holmes](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/H._H._Holmes).  
> Rebekah's [dress and her huge puffed sleeves](https://cinqjours.tumblr.com/post/625461206887596032/fashionologyextraordinaire-evening-dress).
> 
> To the readers begging me to let Bonnie change her clothes: Thank you for your reviews. I'm sorry for the tease. Next time, I promise.  
> chapter title from: better the devil you know than the devil you don't


	14. fools rush in

_Because I could not stop for Death  
He kindly stopped for me  
The Carriage held but just Ourselves  
And Immortality.  
-Emily Dickinson_

Instead of waking up broken on concrete, Bonnie came to lying face down on a soft mattress. While the featherbed was obviously preferable, the impact had still jolted through her entire body, and her skin felt tender. She groaned, burying her face further into the pillows. Bonnie had just managed to relax her muscles and was just gathering the willpower to turn over and face whatever time she'd found herself in, when she heard a door burst open behind her.

"Get up! Get up!" Bonnie rolled over, toward the voice, and fell right off the side of the bed.

"Ugh. Why?" She asked the universe.

"Who are you? What are you doing in here?" Bonnie looked up to see a girl about her age, dressed in a maid's uniform. The floor length kind, not the sexy-French-maid costume kind sold at cheap Halloween stores.

Hopefully, this girl would be as helpful as the people she'd previously met, and not an evil vampire like Klaus.

"I'm Bonnie. And I'm not exactly sure where here is, so…"

The maid moved to grab her wrist, but when their skin met both gasped. Bonnie saw a small cottage on a wide lake, smelt fresh peach cobbler, and felt the burning familiarity of home. She could immediately sense the truth in each vision. This maid was a witch, and even more, she was a Bennett. Bonnie seemed to be recovering from the psychic contact more easily than her ancestor, who seemed to be in a stupor.

"It's you. You are our end." Her voice was barely above a whisper, but Bonnie still heard her. Goosebumps erupted down her arms. What did that mean? What end?

"What? What are you talking about? Who are you?" The other witch's eyes snapped open, and she let go of Bonnie's wrist.

"I'm Damia Bennett. You shouldn't be here." She said flatly. Bonnie was reminded strongly of Emily, but that name was a step beyond belief.

"I'm sorry, did you say Damia Bennett? Damia? Who named you that?"

The fear on the other Bennett's face was now replaced by annoyance.

"My mother, obviously." She raised her chin superiorly, looking down her nose at Bonnie. "And I'll have you know I'm named after a hero. Damon saved Uncle Sebastian and my mother's lives when they were children, and he freed my grandfather from slavery." Her mother was Ruthie. She'd survived, apparently thanks to Damon.

"Your namesake, Damon? He freed someone from slavery?" Bonnie asked. She'd known that Emily's husband, the children's father, was owned by a man in Louisiana. She'd learned what she could about him; it had been a rare opportunity to learn a family history that would never be written down, but Emily hadn't wanted to talk about him very much, and his children barely remembered him.

"More than someone. A full plantation. Murdered the master and any slave catcher who tried to stop them between Louisiana and Massachusetts." Damia boasted. Bonnie had expected Emily's brother to take care of the children in the wake of their mother's death, but apparently Damon had made other plans.

"Whoa." Bonnie didn't really know what to say. This was news to her. She wondered how this story had been lost in her family, what had happened between now and 2010, that Bennetts went from naming their daughters after Damon, to glaring him down on their front porch.

"So yes, I am Damia Bennett. And I'm asking you again. What are you doing here, Bonnie Bennett?" Apparently, despite Damia's evident growing dislike for Bonnie, and whatever end the other witch had sensed from her skin, she had picked up the familial note between them too.

"I'm caught in the blowback of a botched spell. I'm kind of from the future, but I'm coming from the past, hence the old clothes. But I shouldn't be here long. I'm usually only around for a few hours, so I'll be out of your hair soon enough." Bonnie hoped this was enough of an explanation. But whether it was satisfactory or not, she wouldn't know. The two heard the wriggling of the knob of a door just outside the room.

Damia grew wide-eyed again.

"You don't have any credentials, and you look all wrong. Quick, under the bed." Bonnie didn't argue. Her dress was still the lend she'd gotten from Katherine in 1864, and it had been dirtied by quarry mud, stress sweat, presidential blood, and the dusty soil of South Dakota. She sorely regretted not trading it in for one of Rebekah's dresses, but it had seemed such a ridiculous risk. At least she'd ditched the full hoop before she'd begun digging graves outside Deadwood.

The bed skirt had fallen back to the ground after Bonnie, and she was ensconced in the dark, trying to breathe as shallowly and quietly as possible.

"Just go up without me Charles, I won't be a minute. I have to grab my dinner jacket, but there's no reason for you to leave your lady love waiting." The masculine voice was just beyond the wall, and Bonnie heard a second jovial voice bid him goodbye before the door to the bedroom swung open.

"Sir, I'm sorry. I was just collecting your linens. I will wait outside until you're finished." Damia's tone was polite and deferential, but curt.

"No need to wait, I'll keep my sheets another day. Go to your next room." Damia couldn't exactly argue, and Bonnie tracked her soft tread as it exited the rooms and out into the hallway. Bonnie stopped trying to be quiet. She knew that voice.

"I may be weaker than my brother, but I can still hear your breathing, Bonnie." He lifted the bed skirt and peered under. Bonnie began wriggling out without protest, pulling roughly when her skirt got caught underneath. The last time she had seen Stefan they'd managed a peaceful and contemplative conversation, but they weren't friendly in the past. Still, she was confident he wasn't about to snap her neck.

"How did you know it was me? I doubt you can recognize my breathing patterns after all this time." He appraised her for a second, sizing her up.

"Witches have a particular note to their scents. It's alluring, it draws vampires in. The more powerful the witch, the stronger the draw. You have the most powerful aura of any I've encountered; it was noticeable even when I was only human. As soon as I walked in, I could feel you, beneath the bed, and I knew it was you."

"This draw…um…is it like a pull to feed, or a pull to…" Bonnie trailed off, cursing herself for even thinking about asking that question. Why did she ever open her mouth?

Stefan just laughed.

"You and Katherine could be so forward, I'd almost forgotten. As for your question, I would guess it would depend on the vampire and the witch. There is always an awareness, but whether the attraction is gastronomic or carnal probably has more to do with their relationship." He winked, but Bonnie thought it was pretty safe to say that his attraction to her scent was strictly in the food category of things.

"Well, that's good to know at least. Now about me being under your bed—"

"Bonnie, I've wanted to apologize to you for a long time. I'm sorry for how I treated you when we first met. I've always been attuned to people's hurt and suffering, and I thought I had an open mind as well as heart. But your presence made me realized that I'd written off a huge number of people as not even people at all, that I'd assumed that what society told me about them was true. My actions towards you, and my attitude in general, was reprehensible. My apology comes half a century too late, but I hope you will accept it just the same." Bonnie blinked. That was some speech, and it had definitely been rehearsed in front of a mirror a few times, but that didn't mean he wasn't sincere. Stefan had always been better at soul-searching, and sticking to his resolutions, than his brother.

"Thank you, Stefan, for the apology. You're already forgiven." A weight lifted from her, as the dissolution of a difference between the two timelines hit home. Stefan was nearly her friend again, and their relationship could only be built up from here. A little of her guilt, from condemning him and his brother, and later saving them, resolved itself within her.

"Stefan, what's the date, and the year?" He looked at her a little curiously but shrugged good naturedly.

"Coming off a bit of a bender? Can't say I haven't been there. It's April 14th, so we're four months into 1912." He winked, before pulling out his pocket watch. "And it's a quarter of an hour before six o'clock. Honestly, I don't know how you managed to get aboard without knowing the date, didn't your ticket say?" Stefan asked.

The last time Bonnie had been sure of the date was in 1865. Nearly fifty years had gone by; little Ruthie was a woman now and had a grown daughter of her own. For Bonnie, it had been only three days since their shared magic lesson. She would never see that little girl again, but the only thing she could do now is look forward.

"It's a long story, but here's what you need to know. I don't have a ticket, a cabin, a change of clothes, or money to get any of those things. Want to help a girl out, for old times' sake?"

"It would be my honor, Miss McCullough." Stefan gave a slight bow in emphasis. It somehow managed to be lighthearted, yet completely devoid of the mocking note she would have expected from his older brother. "I'd be happy to lend you some cash, and there are seamstresses aboard. But for now, I'll just go borrow something. I'll be back in a second." He took more than a second, but only barely. Bonnie had just sat down on the bed when he returned, smile in place, and with a dress hung over one arm.

"This should do, anything else?" He asked, but Bonnie had just remembered his earlier entrance.

"Stefan! Your friend! You told him you'd meet him soon."

"So I did. I doubt anyone will be that put out by my late arrival at dinner, but I should give you some time to change. There's a comb and some soap by the wash basin. Come up to the main dining room when you're ready, we'll get you some food and I'll introduce you to everyone you don't know." Bonnie nodded, resolving herself to an evening of unfamiliar faces, and Stefan swiftly exited.

She combed her hair and tried to pin it up into some sort of respectable up do. It looked much sloppier than Damia's sleek no-nonsense bun, but Bonnie hoped it would come off as intentional.

Peeking out from beneath the dress Stefan had laid out on the bed was a slip, stockings, and a significantly less restrictive corset compared to the one Bonnie was wearing. She internally thanked Stefan for his thoroughness, before gleefully burning through the buttons and ties of Katherine's borrowed clothes.

Bonnie pulled each layer on, guessing at the order and hoping for the best. When she was finished, she had a shirt-like piece left over, but she shrugged and tossed it aside. She smoothed her hands down the gauzy embroidered overlay, took a deep breath, and headed out the door.

After wandering up and down the hall for a few minutes, Bonnie realized she had no idea where she was going. There weren't any signs, and all of the doors remained shut. Finally, she decided to try going down a set of stairs, hoping to at least run into someone. It was only one flight down when Bonnie spotted a man, a boy really, hurrying past her. He looked harried, and Bonnie internally winced at adding to his burdens, but she was completely lost.

"Excuse me, could you help me? I have a horrible memory, and I'm lost. Do you think you could give me directions towards the dining room?" The boy spun on his heel to face her and nodded eagerly.

"Happy to ma'am, first class dining I assume?" He said, with a nod to her dress. "I'm on my way there myself in fact, Mr. George decided he wants his ivory cufflinks after all. I'll show you." He spoke fast, with a thick Irish accent, and barely waited for her before continuing on. Lifting her skirt to lengthen her stride, Bonnie followed.

After what seemed like a dozen identical wood paneled hallways, they spilled out into a wide atrium, and Bonnie could see a huge set of double doors at the bottom of the stairs.

"Here you are ma'am. The steward will let you in the main doors, but I've got to slip around back. Have a good evening."

Bonnie called a thank you after him, but he was already gone. She descended the stairs slowly, careful in the short-heeled shoes that Stefan had brought her.

When the steward didn't immediately open the door for her, she nodded to him in recognition, and reached for the handle herself. Bonnie hoped her brazenness would get her through where her ignorance could not help, but he caught her arm before she'd touched the door. Though he immediately released her hand, it was clear that he was intent on blocking her entrance to the room.

"Is there a problem?" He pursed his lips like he was sucking on a particularly bitter lemon.

"Do you have a first-class ticket ma'am?" The last word was said derisively, like he did not want to address Bonnie as such.

"Not on me if that's what you're asking. I was unaware I was required to carry it whenever I wished to have something to eat."

"I'm sorry ma'am," He didn't sound sorry at all, "but I cannot allow you to enter the dining room without first class verification." Bonnie huffed in frustration, no doubt cementing her low-class status in this guy's mind.

"Look, I understand that you don't think I belong in there. But I'm already late, and I can't exactly go all the way back to my cabin and fetch a ticket that I shouldn't even need right now. I told Mr. Salvatore I would meet him a quarter of an hour ago, and I'm sure he won't appreciate knowing you've kept me even longer." Bonnie channeled Katherine, projecting belonging and superiority as much as she could. His face changed.

"Mr. Salvatore? Are you—?" His lips stiffened again, from shock, to determination. "I still have to verify. I will ask Mr. Salvatore myself, and if he doesn't know you, there will be consequences, Miss." Bonnie noted her demotion to Miss, but nodded in agreement. The steward called a servant from inside to watch her while he entered the dining room to get Stefan.

Bonnie tried not to fidget nervously, and only adjusted her long over-the-elbow gloves once. Standing outside a party, waiting to know if you'll be allowed in, was never a good feeling. After a short eternity, Bonnie heard voices just on the other side of the door.

"Once again, sir, I am sorry to interrupt your meal. The woman claims to be meeting you, but you really should see her before you verify anything." Bonnie took a step away from the door, trying not to look guilty about eavesdropping and ignoring the amused snort of the door's temporary guard.

"And here she is." The door swung open, revealing the rude steward and the wrong Salvatore brother.

"Sir, I—" Bonnie's face must have reflected her shock, she had not expected to be face to face with Damon, and she was struggling to articulate how to tell him he'd grabbed the wrong Salvatore brother. The steward looked somewhat gleeful, no doubt gearing up to ream her out, and to deliver some of the consequences he'd threatened earlier.

Both of them were cut short by Damon. He sprung forward and pulled Bonnie into a tight hug, lifting her off her feet, before spinning her around once. Bonnie clung to him, her arms tight around his shoulders, shocked by his exuberance.

He set her down and kissed her with a smack on both cheeks.

"Bonnie McCullough, I thought you'd never arrive." He smiled widely at her silence and slipped a bill into the hands of the gaping steward.

"Thank you so much for letting me know she was here. Now, the doors if you don't mind." The steward opened the door wide, avoiding Bonnie's eyes.

"Sorry about that Bonnie, you should have heard his implications when he came to get me. Though I'm glad he did; tell me, when did you board? This is a voyage of familiar faces. You'll never guess who else is here!"

"Stefan." Damon deflated a little at her easy answer.

"You've already seen him?"

"He's the one who got me this dress. If the steward had seen me when I first arrived he wouldn't have let me in even with your endorsement."

"Well I supposed I have to be just slightly nicer to my brother this evening. You look ravishing." Bonnie rolled her eyes and noticed the rest of the room for the first time.

It was gorgeous, but also full of people staring at her. Bonnie shifted under the scrutiny.

"Damon, why are they all staring?" He flashed a smile at her, no teeth, and raised an eyebrow. Every time she saw him he looked more and more like the vampire she remembered from the 21st century.

"Bonnie, you're entering a room arm and arm with Damon Salvatore, a few stares are to be expected." Bonnie muttered some choice words about arrogance under her breath, knowing he could hear her as clearly as if she'd shouted. "Now, just smile like I'm the most charming man in the world and they'll all love you."

"Not likely." But despite her words, she smiled up at him. Partially because she was taking his advice, but also because she was happy to see his face. No one could blame her for that. It was a good face. Grams swam into view, followed by herself. Her past self, from before she travelled in time, would be judging her harshly for her happiness. She pushed the thought aside.

"Anyway, you can just take me to Stefan's table and go back to whatever you were doing before I interrupted your evening." She still couldn't see Stefan in the room, probably because of the amount of people circulating between the tables. She hoped he hadn't decided to leave when he saw her with Damon.

"No need for me to abandon you in unfamiliar waters, Stefan and I just happen to be sharing a table tonight." They reached the end of the room, and Bonnie finally saw Stefan. He was seated at a large circular table, which was populated mostly by men around the same age as Damon and Stefan, or at least the age the brothers appeared to be. Only three women sat at the table, each smiling demurely and taking small bites of the food in front of them. The men were loud, and the women looked bored. Bonnie prepared herself for a rough meal.

"Ah! Damon, you're back. We were wondering where that steward took you off to," His tone was convivial, and he added an exaggerated wink before shoving a piece of bread into his mouth. No one spoke, waiting for him to finish chewing and finish his sentence. "We thought he might be shaking you down for cash, but it seems you have gained something instead."

"Yes, William, no need to worry about me being mugged by the servants. Everyone, this is Bonnie McCullough." His introduction was met by an easy acceptance of everyone at the table, and Stefan smiled widely at her. Bonnie thought he'd probably dodged the steward on purpose, just to laugh at her when he heard her shocked sputtering twenty yards away.

An empty chair appeared next to Damon's and the table's occupants gamely scooched their chairs and shifted their plates to make room for her. Another set of dishes and silverware arrived, quickly followed by a plate filled with potatoes and roast duck. Bonnie dug in, ignoring the uneasy looks directed at her by some of the party.

"So, did you hear? Roosevelt is entering the election, who would have thought? Got so fed up with Taft he's started his own party! Some sort of Moose nonsense." Bonnie perked up. Taft sounded familiar to her, and she knew there had been multiple Roosevelt presidents. Stefan had told her she was in 1912, but Bonnie didn't really know where that placed her in history. Maybe this could help her figure it out.

"Excuse me, but what did you just say? He's started another party?" Bonnie had expected that her words would spur the conversation on, hopefully to current events and maybe a mention of who the current president was. Instead, her words effectively ended the conversation, and everyone looked at Bonnie as if she'd suddenly sprouted a second head. Damon just laughed into his glass of wine, doing nothing to help her. After a full twenty seconds of silence, another man at the table, Bonnie thought he might have been introduced as Charles, spoke up.

"This is really nothing that concerns you, so don't worry your pretty little head about it. Margaret," he turned to the young woman next to him, "why don't you two talk about dresses or something." Bonnie blinked in shock as the conversation resumed as if she had never spoken. Margaret smiled at her sympathetically.

"Damon, what the hell?" Bonnie whispered. The vampire reached out a hand, patting hers in comfort, before leaning in to whisper in her ear.

"Sorry Bonnie, he's very against women's suffrage or involvement in politics, but he has a grimoire I need." He leaned away and joined the conversation easily. Bonnie shuddered at the thought of arrogant Charles holding anything magic for even a second but was also miffed that Damon would go along with this kind of stuff.

Bonnie looked down at her plate, and the few lonely potatoes still left on it. Her stomach churned.

"If you'll excuse me, I think I need to freshen up a bit." Bonnie pushed back from the table roughly, not caring what any of them thought of her or her manners at all.

"I'll go with you." Margaret stood from beside Charles and took Bonnie's arm. Bonnie knew she should be grateful, as she had no idea where anything was on the ship, not even the closest bathroom, but she would rather have been alone.

"I feel I must apologize on Charles' behalf. He and I are engaged, you see. He's never been the most polite man, but he was rather more rude than usual to you, I'm sorry."

"I'd rather an apology from the source, but I don't think I'd ever get one." Bonnie replied. Margaret grimaced.

"No, most likely not. But we haven't been properly introduced, have we? I'm Margaret, Margaret Graham. But you must call me Margie, everyone does, except Charles when he's putting on airs of course." Bonnie smiled at the woman's increasingly easy manner as they got further from the table. She opened her mouth to return the introduction.

"And of course, I know who you are, even without Damon's rather slapdash general introduction. We've been expecting you, Bonnie McCullough. When you didn't appear after Queenstown, Elizabeth was sure he'd been lying about you taking the trip. But he said you'd be here, and here you are. So, when did you get on? I would have thought we'd meet you right away!" Bonnie was strongly reminded of Caroline, and her heart ached with missing her friend.

"Queenstown. I've just been sick; I'm not used to the sea yet. I wouldn't even let Damon in to see me, I looked horrible. He probably just didn't say anything because he didn't want to admit that my maid managed to physically bar him from the room." Margie laughed at the image this evoked, a nice tinkling laugh. It was the kind of laugh Caroline and Bonnie had tried to practice in middle school. Caroline had managed to completely stifle her awkward braying, but Bonnie had never quite managed to stop herself from snorting.

"Well if you're prone to seasickness, I understand why you needed to get away from the dining room for a bit. It gets so hot in there, even I feel dreadful when all the men are smoking and shouting along with the ships swaying, and I've crossed the Atlantic a dozen times now." They'd reached a door, and Margie nodded for an attendant to push it open. She immediately went to the burnished mirror on the wall and began to dab at her face with a provided towel. Bonnie attempted to mirror her movements but was struck by the image in the mirror.

She didn't look like herself. Both her and Margie had re-donned their long gloves when they left the table, and her covered hands added to the unreality of her reflection. Her unintentionally voluminous hair looked purposeful, her stolen dress elegant, and her flushed face energized. Had she really changed that much? That she could slip into a dress, a role, a lie, without the guilt being painted on her face? Bonnie tried to dismiss her disquiet with some extra vigorous dabbing before she tossed the hand towel into a waiting basket.

"They're smoking a lot. I hope the smell doesn't stay in my hair." Margie's eyes lit up a bit too excitedly for Bonnie's statement.

"Oh, I have just the thing for that! You'll have to stop by my rooms so I can share some with you. I mix it up myself, and it really works. I smell like roses even after my father smokes his pipe next to me."

"Sounds like a plan. Hey, do you know what time it is?" Margie's face turned apologetic.

"No, I apologize; you will have to ask one of the men. I am sure they all carry pocket watches. Are you ready to go back now?"

"Oh, of course. Let's go." Margie nodded and gave Bonnie one last wide smile before they headed for the door.

As they drew closed to the table, Bonnie noticed that the eyes of their table's occupants were tracking their progress across the room eagerly. She tried to suppress the trepidation that sprung up in her stomach. Stefan looked gleeful, which was very odd to Bonnie. Even as a human, he'd been more prone to brooding and intense stares than smiles and laughter. Bonnie thought she saw Charles elbowing Damon repeatedly as they both stood, Charles to pull out Margie's chair, and Damon to pull out hers.

After they sat, the conversation resumed, and no one made any mention of their intense interest a few moments earlier, or the continued glances Bonnie could swear they were throwing her way. The men began talking about Woodrow Wilson and business in New Jersey, and the two other women quickly pulled Margie into a whispered discussion of the Astor patriarch's new and scandalous marriage. Bonnie kept to herself, trying to remember when exactly the first world war broke out, and if that is why Wilson's name sounded familiar to her. Her calculations were cut short by Charles.

"Why Bonnie, you've known our man Damon here for a long time, wouldn't you say?" Bonnie nodded. By Damon's count, they'd known each other for almost fifty years. "You probably know him as well as his own brother. Now Stefan has said his older brother's rather brave, but I think he's a bit of a craven. What do you think? Would you call Damon courageous?"

Bonnie thought about how Damon had failed to speak up when Charles had put her down a few minutes earlier, how he refused to fight his baser urges and try out Stefan's diet, and how he'd refused to own up to his harmful actions with her Grams, with Vicki, and his other victims. A coward.

But she remembered his persistence in opening the tomb, him taking Stefan's army commission, and then leaving the Confederacy to save his humanity. His will to save Katherine's life and his dedication to her before she broke his heart with her absence. Bonnie remembered the trust he gave, over and over, to Elena and to Stefan. She remembered the look in his eyes when she handed over his favorite book and he decided to put his life in her hands. His heart was a gaping wound over Katherine, and he still opened it to someone whose face was her mirror image. That took courage.

"I think Damon is like any of us, at turns courageous, and at others cowardly. Sometimes wise and sometimes foolish. But he's without artifice. And I know, like Stefan does, that when you're backed into a corner, Damon is someone you want next to you. He's willing to take a few extra punches to make sure people who aren't as strong as him remain unharmed." A smile crossed Bonnie's lips. She'd never thought about Damon in the future so positively. Damon as a human was easy to like, but he hadn't really lost any of it by transitioning. So much of himself had stayed with him beneath his bloodlust and lived years; she just had to be open to seeing it.

"Hear that Damon? She wants you next to her. But she didn't give a straight answer on courage, maybe she knows you like to duck out of things before you've crossed the finish line." Bonnie's smile fell. What was Charles talking about? Damon glared at the man but didn't lean over to snap his neck. That grimoire must be something else. Everyone else had to be in on the joke, as they were all laughing. Even Margie seemed in the know now, giggling into her napkin. Stefan's grin widened further. Damon glared at each member of the table in turn.

"I hope you're happy." His glare dropped once he'd turned to Bonnie and took her hand. She turned her body slightly, so their joined hands could rest comfortably in her lap, but he still seemed restless.

"Bonnie, I'm sorry that Charles has ruined this with his meddling, and forced me to do this at this moment, but we all must make the best of our circumstances." He shot another glare across the table before he slid from his chair and knelt next to Bonnie's seat.

Bonnie had never been more confused. She turned her body towards him more fully, catching the very amused smiles on everyone's faces.

"Umm, Damon? What is—?" He held up his free hand.

"Shh. Just give me a minute to speak." He swallowed and started. "Bonnie," He paused, and then sucked in a deep breath before beginning again. "Bonnie, the first time I laid eyes on you I knew that you were something special. That I would never be free of you for the rest of my life, that I wouldn't want to be. I've yet to meet your family, so I cannot say I have their blessing, but you have always charted your own course. My happiness rests solely in your hands. Bonnie McCullough, will you marry me?"

The anticipatory silence had spread from their party, to the nearest adjoining tables, to the entire room. The string quartet fell quiet and Bonnie could feel a hundred pairs of eyes on her and Damon. She was viscerally reminded of the stares she'd received in the school cafeteria when Tyler Lockwood asked her to Spring Fling in eighth grade.

But this wasn't a school dance invite, and this wasn't Tyler. Damon Salvatore had just asked her to marry him. The silence stretched and began to buzz with whispers.

"Bonnie?" Damon looked up at her imploringly. She looked down at him, still processing. He had a ring. It was simple, a gold band with two pearls edged with a vine decal. It wasn't something extravagant, like Katherine would have preferred. He had gotten it with Bonnie in mind. He looked up at her imploringly. Bonnie realized that he must need this engagement for something, and she couldn't leave him hanging any longer.

"Yes?" It came out more as a question than a statement, but the women still sighed enviously as Damon slipped the ring onto Bonnie's finger. The vampire smiled broadly, like he was the happiest man on the whole boat. As if he loved her, and this wasn't just a cover story for this era or this business deal.

His face grew serious, brow furrowed, and his searching eyes roved Bonnie's face for something. What it was, she didn't know. The titters had died down, and Bonnie felt the room hold a collective breath. Her chest ached as his stare bore into her. She didn't want to face this feeling, and she wasn't up for self-introspection. Maybe it was cowardly, but she just couldn't at that moment.

So, she kissed him.

Their second kiss for an audience, and the second kiss that caught Bonnie completely unawares despite her initiating it. Damon kissed like he did everything else, wholeheartedly and without reservation. His lips gentle, but firm. His tongue slipped into her mouth and Bonnie didn't quite stifle her moan before she remembered herself. Her hands, clutching his shoulders, slid down to his chest, and gently pushed. Damon withdrew, only sucking her lower lip slightly as he pulled away.

"Would you like to take a turn with me on the deck, Bonnie?" Bonnie was still dazed but she nodded. Damon would have swept her from the room immediately, and turned to do so, but he was stopped by Charles, who insisted on he and Margie acting as chaperones. Bonnie doubted that one young and engaged couple could be counted on to chaperone another, and her doubts were proven correct as soon as they left the public dining room. Charles and Margie fell back, and soon were completely out of sight, and pleased to be so.

They made it out to the main deck. A few other people were milling around, but it felt private. The night was quiet and cold and huge around them. Bonnie leaned against the metal rails at the side of the ship, and only looked directly down once. The lurch her stomach gave, at the thought of being so high up and the icy water below, convinced her to keep her eyes fully on the deck in front of her. She hadn't forgotten the feeling of free fall as her magic had given way outside Klaus's house.

"I promised a necklace and I'll get that too, even if you reneged on the request. I've set aside some of the raw gold we dug up for it. But I saw the ring in a shop, and I thought of you and," Damon shrugged. "well, I guess I'm glad I bought it now. But I promised you a necklace from my gold, and you'll get it. I just haven't found the right jeweler yet."

"You don't have to give me anything at all, I took it back remember? That was a silly promise anyway." Bonnie said.

"Well it's a silly promise I plan to keep. Next time I see you, I'll have it."

"You don't even know when that will be."

"I'll just have to carry it with me. Worked for the ring." Bonnie stopped, halted by the thought of Damon carrying around the ring that she now wore. How long had he carried it? Just for this trip, where his friends had expected her?

"Damon, why do you talk about me? Really? I know you can't be expecting I show up every time."

Damon looked away. The wind ruffled his hair. He tapped the metal railing a few times, as if a metronome would help marshal his thoughts into coherency.

"You don't show up every time, and I know you won't. But every time there's a chance you could. And that's a nice thought to have. That my friend could arrive any minute and I would no longer be alone."

Bonnie grasped his hand and tightened her fingers over his own. The twin pearls on the ring seemed to glow in the moonlight.

"You're not alone, Damon. Your brother—"

"My brother cursed us both to this existence."

"Damon, you chose to drink Katherine's blood, and to try and rescue her at the risk of your own life. Every day you choose to go outside and keep your daylight ring on. It wasn't all Stefan."

"Yeah, well enough of it was that I'll continue hating him for the rest of the century no matter what you say, thanks."

"Well, I had to try. But Damon, about this whole fiancé thing…" Damon looked nervous. "I want to thank you. It's been pretty useful having people direct me your way once they hear my name." Damon's back straightened and the nervousness melted away.

"Of course, that's the plan. I want to make sure that when you find yourself in an unfamiliar place, and I'm nearby, someone will bring you to me, and I'll be able to keep you safe. I don't want to hear my name on the street, and when I turn its to see you jumping out a window."

"Sorry about that." He waved away her apology.

"Vampire speed, I caught you no problem. Though you fainted on the way down and dropped your rock. Burned like the sun when I picked it up, but as soon as it touched you again, you disappeared, right from my arms. The whole street thought it was some kind of magic show."

Bonnie had thought she'd travelled in the middle of the fall. Knowing Damon had caught her, and that she'd dropped the stone, made her uncomfortable. What if he'd held the stone a little longer? Would he have traveled here, while she was stuck in the past? She shoved her worries aside, determined to appreciate the here and now, whenever that was.

"This has been amazing. The dinner, the view, the dress. I feel like I'm on the Titanic or something." She smiled up at Damon, trying to lighten her own mood. Damon narrowed his eyes, confused.

"Or something? Bonnie, you're on the Titanic."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic originally included Damon, Ruthie, and Sebastian going to find their father and free him (so that Damon didn't have to take care of them himself haha) which involved Damon getting schooled in racial justice and becoming both Dadmon and an actual abolitionist. But this fic is limited to Bonnie's POV and Damon would never brag about any actual good he did; so that will remain an outtake that never sees the light of day except for Damia's few lines
> 
> [Bonnie's dress](https://cinqjours.tumblr.com/post/620864709708726272/michelle-dockery-in-downton-abbey-costume-design) (she finally changed!)  
> [the ring](https://cinqjours.tumblr.com/post/620600897787002880/vint-agge-xx-edwardian-1905-pearl-gold)  
> [the actual menu from the Titanic](https://cinqjours.tumblr.com/post/621134140707946496/peashooter85-dinner-menu-of-the-rms-titanic)


	15. where angels fear to tread

_Hope is the thing with feathers  
That perches in the soul.  
And sings the tune without the words  
And never stops at all.  
― Emily Dickinson_

"What did you just say?"

"The HMS Titanic? That's the ship we're on right now. Did you think we were on a different ocean liner?"

"We're on the Titanic right now?" Bonnie asked, but she could hardly hear her own words. Blood rushed past her ears. She'd let a few hours of peace and a shiny ring distract her. Every trip had included some horrible event, a tragedy for her to witness or mourn in the aftermath; this one was no different.

"Yes, Bonnie, as I've said three times now, we're on the Titanic. You aren't about to mysteriously disappear on me, are you?" Damon's tone was joking, but Bonnie's face had drained of all amusement.

She spun around, running towards the nearest circular life preserver. There, printed in bold black letters, was the name of the ship. Damon bounded after her.

"Are you alright? Bonnie, is something wrong?"

"Damon, remind me of the date. And the time, what time is it?"

"It's April twelfth, and I don't have my watch on me. Maybe eleven?" Any blood that had remained in Bonnie's face was now gone.

_Titanic_ had featured prominently in Caroline, Elena, and Bonnie's sleepovers when they were in middle school. Both Elena and Bonnie had gushed over Leonardo DiCaprio's floppy hair and blue eyes, lusted after the beautiful costumes, and cried at the tragic ending. Caroline had done all of these things too, of course. But Caroline was Caroline, so she'd taken it a step further. She had soon known everything about the film making process, and a lot about the real events. Caroline studied, and talked about, why Kate Winslet's makeup was all wrong, what happened to the real-life Heart of the Sea, and she'd drawn out a minute by minute timeline of the sinking of the ship. Sometimes, Caroline had to dissect things to know why she loved them, and while Bonnie didn't share the urge, she could certainly appreciate her friend's quirks now.

"We have to go; we have to get Stefan!"

"He might be back in his room now—"

"Good, let's go!" She dragged Damon towards the door, and back inside the ship. He had to course correct her a few times, but they managed to find their way to the hallway of first-class cabins where she'd arrived. Bonnie banged insistently on Stefan's door.

"Bonnie? Why do you need Stefan? What's going on?" His hurried questions were interrupted by Stefan opening his door.

"Bonnie? What are you doing here?" Stefan looked confused and Bonnie saw a very much raw haunch of meat on his table. She didn't have time to address his diet right now though.

"What time is it? We have to go; but tell me the time!" Stefan responded to her urgency and grabbed his watch from a side table.

"Eleven twenty-three."

"Fuck!" Bonnie hissed. "We're too late to do anything."

"Too late for what?" Damon asked.

"This ship is going to crash, and it's going to sink, and almost everyone on it is going to die. Tonight. In under twenty minutes."

"What?" Bonnie didn't pay attention to which brother had spoken. She was on the most famous ship in history, and it was going down. Time travel wouldn't protect her from a watery grave.

"Stefan, we might be able to lessen the damage. I need you to go and make sure the lookout is checking for icebergs. If you can see one that he can't, compel him to sound the alarm for it. And then make sure they're sending out SOS signals from whatever communications station we have on here. And then help anyone you can up to the lifeboats. Make sure they send them out full! Go!"

"Bonnie—?" Bonnie couldn't believe he was still standing in front of her.

"Stefan, I need you to trust me. This is happening. You can either stand by and watch it happen or save a lot of lives tonight. It's your choice, but you have to make it right now." The vampire sped off, leaving his door open in his haste.

"Damon, you need to get Damia."

"Damia Bennett? How do you even know—?"

"She was the first person I met when I woke up here. And I know you have to protect her, for your deal with Emily. You need to get her to a lifeboat immediately. I don't know where she is, but crew quarters are probably the absolute worst place she could be now. And compel anyone else you meet in third class to come up by half past twelve. They'll drown in their cabins if they don't."

"What about you?"

"I'll meet you there, I'm going to find Margie." He sped away, and Bonnie ran down the hallway. Margie had said she was staying near Stefan, when she'd invited her to her rooms to share her rose oil. But Bonnie couldn't remember the exact number. Had it ended with a twelve or a fourteen? The witch decided that it didn't matter, if she got it wrong she would just be saving another person's life, and knocked on twelve.

The man who opened the door was not Margie, or any of the relatives that the woman had pointed out to Bonnie earlier in the night. He looked young and rich, and his smile was smarmy.

"And who might you be? I didn't call for anyone tonight." His eyes raked over her body. Bonnie reminded herself that guys with bad attitudes didn't necessarily deserve to die.

"Sorry! I'm looking for my friend. But, there's going to be fireworks tonight, you should come up!" Bonnie turned away, but the man grabbed her arm, just at the space where her skin was not covered by her capped sleeves or long gloves. She gasped, hit by the wall of death around the man. It was the feeling of an old vampire, far older than Damon, Stefan, or Katherine. He felt like Klaus.

"You're lying. But why are you knocking on my door and lying to me about fireworks? Stop panicking, and tell me the truth." His command was accompanied by a distortion of his pupil, and Bonnie knew he was trying to compel her, but she couldn't calm her heart enough to fake it succeeding.

"I'm a witch. I can't be compelled. But the boat is going to hit an iceberg and sink soon. Like, in a minute. I need to find my friend and get anyone else I can off the ship." She said rapidly. The vampire released her, and a thoughtful look overtook his face.

"So everyone on this ship is going to die?" He didn't sound upset over it, but almost…excited.

"No! Not everyone!" Bonnie said. But then her vehemence gusted out of her like a popped balloon. She continued; tone defeated. "But most people, yeah."

"Well, thanks for the warning, love. I'll try not to gorge myself too much on the buffet, and I'll avoid this floor, so I won't kill your friend." He was actually rubbing his hands together in anticipation. Damon had taken advantage of the recently-dead when he was in a situation without many options. This vampire did not have Damon's resigned air to the pragmatic solution. The veins under his eyes were already darkening with thirst, and it only made his eager expression more disturbing.

"What? Everyone's going to die, so you're just going to kill them all to drink their blood?" Bonnie questioned him.

"Yes, I'm giving their lives purpose. I'm nice like that." He replied. Did he really believe that? Bonnie looked at his smiling face in horror.

"What is wrong with you?" She asked.

"Just about everything. I'm a thousand years old, comes with the territory. Ta!" He said, sliding past her.

"Wait!" He'd sped off, but stopped at the end of the hallway, head cocked to indicate that he was listening.

"You won't be able to kill or eat everyone. Please, send some up so they have a chance." The vampire looked at her, considering her words.

"Alright, but only because of my deep respect for witches. And—" He pointed a finger directly at her. "You'll owe me one." Bonnie nodded. She didn't expect that she would ever see this vampire again, and one IOU was a small price to pay for the lives this deal could save. He crossed his fingers over his heart, which, while childish, let her know he would honor his promise. Then he was gone.

She knocked on the next door over. This time, Margie answered it.

"Bonnie? Are you alright?" Bonnie couldn't imagine what she looked like right now. But she'd spent too long talking with that vampire. The iceberg would already have scraped the side of the ship, even if the witch hadn't felt anything.

"Margie, I'm fine. But you need to grab a coat, a heavy one, and any extras you have. The ship is sinking. There's no room for luggage, but you need to get up to the deck and on to a lifeboat."

"Bonnie, what are you talking about? There hasn't been any alert. I think they'd tell us if the boat was sinking."

"Margie. Please, you have to do this. I know we only met today, but I am trying to save your life. This boat is going to the bottom of the ocean, and anyone still on it is going with it. You need to go. Get your coat and go up to the deck. If I'm lying, you'll just have gone up there for a late night stroll, but if I'm not wrong and you stay here, you'll die." The woman swallowed. She stared at Bonnie hard, testing her sincerity before she nodded. Margie turned to her trunk, grabbed a heavy woolen coat, hesitated, and grabbed another one, thick with fur.

"Charles, his mother—" She started to say, but Bonnie pulled her from the room and pointed her towards the exit.

"If they're on the way, grab them. But Margie? Get yourself up there first, and don't let Charles, or anyone else, stop you from getting on one of those lifeboats. Okay?"

"Okay." Margie nodded, and started down the hall, Bonnie went the opposite way. She ran, knocking on every door. Some cabins opened at her knock, and some didn't. She shouted about fireworks and a party on the main deck, hoping to entice people upstairs without inciting a panicked stampede. She was in the stairwell, catching her breath, when a blur flashed before her eyes. A woman stood next to her, where there had only been empty space before.

"Great, another vampire." Bonnie said. The vampire's head cocked to the side, curious.

"Yes, and you're a witch. Why did you knock on my door?" Was every vampire that wasn't a Salvatore British? Even Katherine's odd accent, which Bonnie assumed was fake, had strains of it. Now was not the time to ask.

"The ship is sinking; I'm trying to get people upstairs."

"You won't reach many people at this speed." The vampire said. Bonnie nodded, she was already out of breath, and that was only one hallway. She was so out of shape.

"Will you help?" Bonnie asked. She wasn't hoping for much, after the last vampire, but it couldn't hurt to ask. This one hadn't referred to the passengers as a buffet yet, so she was already a step up in Bonnie's book. She ascended a few more steps when she nodded in agreement to Bonnie's request.

They entered the next hallway together. The vampire ran down the hall, knocking on each door so quickly it was nearly simultaneous. Confused heads were just poking out of their rooms and the vampire was already beside Bonnie again. She pulled them around the corner, hiding them from view.

"There will be fireworks on the deck at a quarter past twelve. Seal your portholes and then come up to the deck." The vampire yelled in a good impression of a man's voice. Bonnie hadn't thought about the portholes. It was a good idea, but the witch wasn't sure how much of a difference it would make. The ship did crack in half; some empty windows could hardly stop that from happening.

"What if they don't come to see the fireworks?" Bonnie asked. She didn't know if she would go and see fireworks after someone knocked on her door just before midnight to tell her about them. The vampire's face softened.

"We can't save everyone, young witch. Now come on, let's do another floor." Bonnie nodded, and the two repeated the process of knocking, running, and entreating people to come upstairs.

They continued until they felt a distinct lurch. They grabbed hands, both startled. Bonnie knew they'd hit the iceberg already, so what was that?

"What's your name, witch? I'm Rose-Marie." The vampire introduced herself. Bonnie hadn't asked her name. She didn't know anything about her except that she was a vampire and willing to help. That had been enough.

"I'm Bonnie."

"Well, Bonnie, this is your last hallway. I can hear water now, inside the ship." That must have been what caused the rocking. Too much water bursting in at once, or some piece of the great metal ship buckling as the ocean rushed into it.

"There's still so many people, and the lifeboats won't start casting off for another hour. Let's keep going." Rose-Marie didn't ask how Bonnie knew this, just nodded, and began the knocking process again.

They reached third class, and Bonnie began telling them that the show had already started, a group of children joined them in knocking, gathering their friends and their families. Suddenly, Rose-Marie turned to Bonnie in warning, but the people arrived before she could get out the words. Dozens of passengers, all at once. Some had wet pants, and were yelling about water in their cabins, but some of them were shouting about a monster on the lower levels, and just as many were moving in the jerking way that was a result of lazy compulsion. The vampire from cabin twelve must have started his feast nearby, just below them.

Bonnie knew it was time to go, and she let the crowd carry her away from Rose-Marie. She thought she heard Rose-Marie's voice, calling for someone named Trevor, but Bonnie wasn't sure. There were so many voices calling out, all searching for a family and friends they'd lost in the tight press of bodies.

But Rose-Marie had helped her without question, believing Bonnie's warnings and working with her to save lives. Bonnie hoped the vampire wouldn't go down with the ship searching for her friend, and that they might meet again in the future. Mystic Falls was due a few visits from friendly vampires.

Bonnie was pulled along with the crowd until they were all spit out onto the deck. It was already crowded with people of all ages and ticket classes. Barely half of them had any outerwear on, and Bonnie wasn't one of them. She shivered. She almost missed Katherine's gown. It had been dirty, but at least it had long sleeves.

By chance, the witch spotted Damon's face through a gap in the crowd, and she pushed herself towards him. When she reached him, he was arguing with a sailor at the stern of a lifeboat. Damia Bennett stood next to him, shivering with a threadbare coat thrown over her uniform. Her bun was still neat.

"I can't let her on. First class goes first. She's staff, she'll be on the last boats out." The sailor insisted.

"There are only twelve people on this boat!" Damon cried. Bonnie peaked over. He was right. Room for at least fifty, and there was only a dozen on board.

"That hardly matters, sir."

"Damon!" The vampire twisted around, noticing her. He motioned for Bonnie to get into the lifeboat, but she was stopped by a different sailor.

"I'm sorry miss, but I cannot let you board." Bonnie looked down at her dress, which left no doubt to which class she would have been ticketed with.

"I guess it's white women and children first, huh?" The sailor shifted uncomfortably but stayed resolute. Bonnie turned to Damon.

"Damon, just compel them." She hissed, knowing that he would hear her despite the chaos.

"I can't Bonnie. I haven't fed since coming aboard, and I'm weak. I used up almost all of my energy compelling people up here, and so did Stefan. I really only have one more in me. Damia will have to find her own way." He said. Damia left behind? Bonnie looked at him as if he were crazy. Did he not realize that he needed to protect Damia to fulfill his deal with Emily?

"Compel him! Get Damia on that boat or I'll stake you myself." Bonnie threatened. Damon kept their gazes locked for three tense seconds before he clenched his jaw and nodded.

He'd begun speaking to the sailor, eyes intense and voice soft, when Bonnie spotted Margie over her shoulder.

The woman had Charles and an older woman who must have been his mother with her, as well as two young children who clung to each of her hands. One was crying, but the other just seemed to be in a daze. Looking at their clothing, Bonnie doubted they were anyone Margie had known before tonight, but she held their hands just as tightly as if they were own, towing them towards the witch once she saw Bonnie waving to her in the crowd.

The crowd wasn't pushing too hard to get onto the boats yet, but Bonnie knew it would soon be a desperate crush. Margie's group soldiered their way through to them. Charles immediately slipped a thick fold of bills into each of the sailors' hands, and then turned to help his mother into the small boat. Bonnie thought he was bribing his way on as well, but once his mother, Margie, and the two children had all been handed in, Charles took a step back.

"Bonnie, come on, get in." Margie's words, and the stack of money from Charles, were more effective than Damon's pre-compulsion arguments. The crewmen didn't protest. They wouldn't stop her from getting on the lifeboat. But Bonnie shook her head.

"No, I'll be staying with Damon. But more people should get in." Just as the words left her mouth, the ship gave a sickening lurch. Screams echoed across the deck. The lifeboat swung away from the ship and then crashed back into the side.

"We have to lower it now. We'll lose it otherwise." The crewman who spoke jumped into the boat and started to untie the knots to begin lowering the boat to the water. Charles scrambled to help from his position on deck. Damon grabbed her arm, eyes serious.

"You should be on that boat Bonnie. If you jump now, you can make it." But the boat had already disappeared into the inky night, so she shook her head again.

"It's too late, and don't try to get me on another one either. I won't take someone else's spot. I've been here for hours Damon; you know I can't be tied here much longer." Bonnie's teeth worried her lip and she tried to believe her own assertions. She'd already been here longer than any other trip, but the bloodstone remained as icy to the touch as the water below.

"Come on, let's go up a deck, I want to see what's going on." She said, and he assented, pushing his way through the crowd in front of her to clear a path.

Damon and Bonnie found slightly higher ground to watch as lifeboats were lowered, some full, some nearly empty, into the water at a rapid pace. Bonnie wasn't ashamed to use a few light pushes, physical or magical, to make sure that children found an easier path through the crowd.

Their higher ground was rising beneath them, as one side of the ship sunk into the water. Bonnie looked at the mass of people still on deck, and the panicked shouts that had begun to spread through their ranks. The seriousness of the situation was setting in. Bonnie thought about the hundreds of people still below deck, the band that was still playing a jazzy tune in the distance, the passengers she had sacrificed to the vampire from room twelve for the hope that he would save more than he killed. If she had just realized where she was sooner, if she'd actually paid attention to her surroundings instead of Damon maybe she would have been able to save them all. The ship could have slowed down and glided through the sea without a scratch or a soul lost.

But maybe it would have just sunk a day later after she left, or a week later on its return trip to England.

A scream and a splash. People had begun jumping from the sides.

"Bonnie, we have to get off this ship, we'll sink with it if we don't." Damon said. Bonnie nodded in agreement and focused in on her surroundings again. It was no use lingering on her failures now. The bloodstone was still cold, she wasn't leaving, and their side of the ship was rising from the water as the other side sunk.

"They've stopped lowering lifeboats, but Damon, I don't think I can jump." In a world of vampires, witches, and werewolves, Bonnie's newfound fear of heights was completely irrational. But feeling the distance between her and the water grow greater and greater made the fear seem altogether too rational. It paralyzed her.

"There are still more boats, they're just stuck. I can get one out I think. Stay here." And then Damon was gone.

Bonnie clung to the rigging he'd left her near. She looked to her right and left, watching as more and more passengers decided taking the plunge into the ocean was a better choice than remaining on deck. Bonnie swallowed.

She hadn't even realized there were so many people on board, a small city really. Of passengers, and crew, and staff to make the whole ship run. Most never even had a chance at a lifeboat, even with Bonnie's desperate meddling. She'd been so focused on solving the problem of people trapped below deck in their cabins. If she'd told Damon and Stefan to save their compulsion for the crew, to make sure the lifeboats were full, more people would have been saved. Bonnie rubbed at her welling eyes. Was her bloodstone still cold because Nature was punishing her? She'd finally tried, really tried, to intervene with history and so now she had to live with it. She would watch her failure to save anyone play out before her, maybe even die herself tonight, and no one in the future would ever know what happened to her.

Or Damon would since he would see her younger self when he tried to open the tomb. And Stefan would, if he ever made it to Mystic Falls. Has she changed that too somehow? Would Stefan still go back to Mystic Falls on the night of the bonfire? Bonnie thought of every interaction, every change she might have made unwittingly. Any small spark left unattended can cause a forest fire. Had she doomed Elena as well as herself?

Bonnie nearly cried in relief when Damon reappeared. His face and arms were strained, he was clearly exhausted, but he was carrying a lifeboat behind him. One of the large ones made of solid wood that could fit dozens of people. Stefan, showing equal exertion, held the other end. It was a testament to the panic of the moment that no one noticed the supernatural strength displayed by the two brothers, even as they did the work of a four-man crew and crane.

Bonnie let go of her security post and stumbled over the rolling deck to reach them.

"Bonnie, get in and get the ropes. We have to do this fast." She climbed on, and frantically tied off the boat to the pulley system that Damon and Stefan had lifted the boat too.

It swung free of their grip, ready to be lowered. "Come on!" Bonnie shouted, not just to the Salvatores but to the other people trying to make their way towards them on the tilting deck. Stefan lowered one side of the boat to keep it even and steady. Damon handed people up to Bonnie as she pulled them into the boat. The deck lurched again, and the boat swung precariously. Bonnie grabbed the side of the boat, trying to keep on her feet.

The boat filled, three dozen people who hadn't made it onto any of the other rafts.

"Lower it." Stefan nodded at Damon's words, but Bonnie protested.

"There are still more people!"

"Bonnie, they're not going to make it. We've done all we can." Damon said frankly. "Stefan, start." He ordered. Stefan climbed into the boat himself but kept hold of the rope. Damon waited a moment, making sure it was steady, before following himself.

A little girl leaned over the side, watching as the blackness came closer and closer. The girl was alone, so Bonnie scrambled over the crowded bench seats to sit next to her.

"Hi, I'm Bonnie. What's your name?" Bonnie said, trying to project friendliness and comfort. The girl sniffled, but she wasn't crying. Bonnie wished she had a coat to wrap the girl in. The child, practically a toddler, didn't say anything, just fingered the long silk gloves that Bonnie still wore, despite everything that had happened.

"Do you like my gloves?" The girl nodded. The boat stopped its descent, and Stefan looked to his pulley in frustration. Bonnie pulled off her gloves and handed them to the girl. She'd long stop feeling the stinging chill of the wind, and the gloves hadn't been much protection anyway.

"Here, they're yours now." The girl took them and managed a small smile.

Bonnie stood up and carefully stepped over the bench so she could help Stefan.

"What's wrong?" Bonnie asked. Stefan was frowning at the rope. Where it had previously been sliding smoothly through the pulley, keeping them level as they were lowered, it now seemed stuck.

"Pulley's jammed." He glanced at the three dozen huddled passengers of their little boat, and the still rising hull of the Titanic at their side. "I can do it by hand, but it will be suspicious."

"Do it. No one is going to remember one odd thing in the midst of all this." Bonnie said. Stefan nodded and began quickly tinkering with the metal and rope. Bonnie didn't know exactly what he was doing but trusted that he was working to get them all to the water safely. Now to deal with the nagging worry in the back of her mind.

"Stefan, I need you to promise me something. On our new friendship." Bonnie said. She stressed the word new, hoping to remind him that he still had a lot to make up for.

"Anything." He said, glancing up from his work to meet her eyes so she knew he was sincere.

"No matter what happens tonight, I need you to meet me in Mystic Falls on May 23, 2009."

"2009? What?" The specific date, far into the future, must have made no sense, but Bonnie infused earnestness into her words.

"Just promise me. May 23, 2009. Wickery Bridge, okay?"

"Alright, I promise." Stefan said. Damon was giving them odd looks from across the boat. Bonnie didn't want to offer any further explanation, to either of them, so just nodded and left him to his work on the pulley.

She'd almost gotten back to her seat when the boat lurched again. Bonnie didn't know if it was because Stefan had finally gotten the rope out of the pulley, or if something had snapped, or if the Titanic had lurched and taken them with her. None of that even entered her mind because her vision and focus had narrowed to one point, less than two feet in front of her.

The girl, gloves in hand, had been leaning over the side again. Her little feet left the floor and Bonnie dove forwards, pushing the girl into the arms of a seated tuxedoed man. The witch had used her own body as a counterweight, and she'd miscalculated. The girl was safe, but Bonnie tumbled over the edge and into the water.

"Bonnie!"

She hit the water in seconds. It felt like every inch of her skin had been slapped. The cold air that she'd grown accustomed to was nothing compared to the water. Her entire body froze; she couldn't move her arms and legs. She couldn't even feel them. Her dress suddenly weighed fifty pounds. She opened her eyes, and thought she could see light somewhere above her, where the ship must be, but just as suddenly it was gone. She had nothing to swim to, no ability to swim, and the bloodstone was still cold. Bonnie really was going to die here.

Just as Bonnie gave up hope, an arm wrapped around her middle and dragged her upwards. Her head broke the surface and she gasped to bring air into her burning lungs. Damon towed her for a few minutes, cutting through the water easily. He pulled her to a capsized raft. Bonnie didn't know if it had been locked away on the boat and shaken free, or if it had been overturned earlier and doomed its inhabitants.

"Can you tread?" Bonnie struggled to move her limbs but managed a very weak tread. Damon let go of her and flipped the raft, before throwing her and himself on board. They lay on their backs, panting.

"The lifeboat? Stefan? Did they make it?" Bonnie managed to ask between labored breaths.

"I don't know. I dove after you." Damon said. He already sounded much better than her. Did vampires actually need to breathe? _Twilight_ had said no, but Damon hardly sparkled either.

"Damon! Those people—!"

"They'll be fine. Stefan got them into the water, I'm sure of it." He sat up.

"Damn." He breathed, eyes wide with shock. Bonnie struggled to sit up for a moment, before Damon propped her up against his side, so that she could share his disbelief.

The lights of the Titanic had gone out while she was under the water, but they could still see the boat outlined against the starry night sky. One side was completely out of the ocean, nearly vertical in the air. Bonnie knew what was going to happen next, but still winced when the groans of wood and iron reached them. She hid her face in Damon's shoulder as the hull cracked and the ship split apart. The two sides of the massive Titanic disappeared in under a minute, slipping under the surface quietly.

Bonnie's hair had been frozen together, and it crackled as she tried to lift her head from Damon's shoulder. He wrapped an arm around her, pulling her so that her back was to his chest and her legs were bracketed with his own. He hugged her, his warmth enveloping her. The heat helped, but Bonnie's teeth still chattered. She couldn't shake the chill, not only from the water, but also from her earlier acceptance of her own death.

His hands rubbed up and down her arms, trying to generate more heat.

"Come on, Bonnie, let's get some life back into you. Vampire blood can't make you warm, work with me here." She weakly smiled at his efforts. But warmth she could do, it would just take some energy. She just had to muster some more. The adrenaline was gone, but she could do this. She had to.

She leaned over the side of the raft, this time with Damon's arm acting as a steady anchor and snatched a few pieces of debris from the water. She avoided thinking about the bodies floating among them.

She formed a pile of waterlogged wood and focused. At first, it only generated steam. But after a minute, the pile burst into hot flame. Damon flinched back in surprise, before drawing close again. They settled down beside each other, huddled in front of their small fire.

Bonnie eyed the glinting golden band on her finger and tried to process her day. She'd met another ancestor who didn't seem to like her. Bonnie thought about what Damia had said after they touched. _You are our end_. Did that mean Bonnie was the last of the Bennetts, that the line would die with her? Or had Bonnie inadvertently caused the ship to sink? Or was it both? Was it a prediction that Bonnie was going to die, childless, in the past, soaked through to the skin?

"Stop looking so glum. We survived!" Damon said, giving her shoulder a shake.

"Thanks to you. I was basically useless back there. I tried to warn people, but I was too late and slow. And if it wasn't for you and Stefan getting that boat…" Bonnie trailed off.

"So, an early win for super strength. This whole cursed existence thing saved a few lives, including yours. But look, we would have frozen out here if it wasn't for you. It's a team effort." Damon encouraged her.

"A team effort between a vampire and a witch. I like that." She said. "And stop calling yourself cursed, it's depressing."

Damon snorted.

"That's the point, Bonnie."

"Well it shouldn't be. What do you even have to be sad about? What exactly is so cursed about getting to live forever doing whatever you want?" She asked tetchily.

"You forgot the bit about having to kill people and feed on their blood to survive." Okay, point.

"Well you don't have to kill them; you could just compel them afterwards."

"But you hate compulsion. You didn't even like when I compelled those prostitutes, and that was for their own good." His definition of their own good might not be their own, but explaining bodily autonomy and self-determination to a vampire would have to take a backseat just for tonight. The whole murder wasn't the only choice had precedence for now.

"Compelling someone to forget a few hours is better than killing them, Damon, that's kind of a no brainer."

"Hmm," He intoned. Bonnie hoped that meant he was thinking over what she said. She might not encourage anyone to become a vampire, but after living as one for fifty years, she thought Damon would have learned to take the good with the bad better.

"Just wait until blood banks become a thing. You'll love them."

"Blood from a bank? I suppose people make willing deposits for us to pick up?" He asked sarcastically.

"Essentially, yes." Bonnie replied.

"Another thing to look forward too in your future then."

"Hey, 2009 isn't exactly just around the corner. You should live your life." Bonnie said, thinking about how if must have felt for Damon to live his entire life waiting for Katherine, only to find out that she didn't care about him. "If we ever get off the boat, you have to make some friends, have some fun. Don't just spend your whole life waiting."

"If we get off? Do you think I'm going to let you die out here, Bonnie?"

"Well, all I can do is light another fire, and I don't think that is going to do much good if we're stuck here much longer." Bonnie said with a yawn. The fire was nice, and no longer needed her magic as fuel to keep going, but it was far from a permanent solution.

He tightened his arm around her.

"I'll tow this boat behind me if I have to, Bonnie, don't think I won't." Damon said. Bonnie wanted to argue against this, images of Leonardo DiCaprio's frozen body at the forefront of her mind. She didn't want him in the water. But explaining that argument required too much energy, and she suddenly felt exhausted.

Her lids drooped. Hazily, she thought she saw a figure cutting through the water with a perfect breaststroke, but she blinked, and it was gone.

"I guess this trip was a total bust for you." Bonnie said, hoping to distract him from his proposed task.

"What?" He asked.

"Can't exactly get a grimoire from a sinking ship. That was why you were on the boat, right? For Charles's book. Did you think it had a clue about the tomb?"

"Not about the tomb, no. But I would have been on the ship anyway. Stefan and I have business in Virginia."

"Both of you? What is it?"

"Alessandro's oldest son, Zachariah, is dead." Apparently Zach was a family name, and an unlucky one.

"Oh. I'm so sorry." Bonnie felt the shrug of Damon's shoulder beneath her.

"I never knew him. I haven't been back in Mystic Falls since I left. I didn't even want to go back for this."

"So why are you?" Bonnie asked. Was he finally going to fulfill his dream of burning down the Salvatore mansion? Or had he already done that? She'd never thought to follow up.

"He was murdered. I thought it might be a vampire. Someone getting revenge for the tomb; he's not the first murdered founding family member in recent months."

"You think a vampire got out?"

"No." Another shrug, "I can't let myself hope that. I thought it might be someone else like me, someone waiting. I can see why they'd want revenge."

Bonnie started to reply, but she was interrupted by a yawn. How could she be so warm and sleepy in the middle of the ocean?

"You can rest Bonnie, get some sleep. I'll wake you up when the fire goes out." Damon said softly.

Bonnie must have mumbled some response, but she couldn't remember. She blinked again, but her eyelids were too heavy to lift. She dropped off into an exhausted sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Extra:
> 
> Damia was a practical sort of woman. So as her middle began to increase, and she found herself shore-bound while her husband continued to serve at sea, she took out a book of name meanings at the library. The obvious first stop is for her own name, which she finds comes from a minor goddess of agriculture; tamed nature. She didn’t think her mother was quite so devoted to Nature, but she supposed the name was fortuitous. To be named after her dear friend and hero, but also not biblical as her mother’s own was. Ruth was not fond of hiding who she was, or who she cared for. She didn’t have Emily’s circumspect nature, not like Damia did. But still, one is not raised by Ruth Bennett without inheriting a touch of her glory-lust. 
> 
> Damia was named after the man who saved her mother’s life, and when it comes time to name her own firstborn, it is easy to convey the same honor. The baby boy is happy, the father yielding, and the name as unusual as her own. Bonnie meant pretty girl, Damon meant to tame, or to befriend. Bellamy meant handsome friend. It would honor them both well. 
> 
> Her second child was named for Damia’s philosophy in life, rather than her heroes. Amelia, to work. 
> 
> (Amelia, of course, will name her daughter Sheila.)


	16. a cat in gloves

_This was love: a string of coincidences_   
_that gathered significance and became miracles._   
_―Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie_

Bonnie's dress was still stiff with dried seawater. The fire had melted the icicles in her hair and the chill in her joints exceptionally well, but the dress was going to be a lost cause. Bonnie could feel the salt itching at her skin. She shifted, trying to alleviate the irritation, and to snuggle further into the warmth that surrounded her.

Even with her sleep-addled mind, Bonnie registered that the warmth under her cheek was breathing. She was resting her entire weight on Damon. This, while comfortable for her, was probably not ideal for the vampire. Grumbling at herself and the bright sun, she began to shift off of him. She moved carefully, not wanting to wake Damon up, or to rock the raft dangerously.

But her hand didn't meet the hard wood at the bottom of the boat, but instead the easy give of a mattress. Bonnie blinked the sleep from her eyes. The light that woke her was not the stark morning sunrise glinting off the Atlantic, but the warm glow of a bedroom bathed in the afternoon sun.

She pushed herself up, holding her balance with her hands on either side of Damon's head. And it was Damon, her sleepy awareness hadn't lied about that at least. But how was he here? Had they been touching when the stone activated? Had she inadvertently pulled Damon through time in her sleep? Bonnie's panic was forestalled by Damon's arms tightening around her, pulling her down. Her palms slipped on the smooth sheets, and she collapsed back against his chest.

"Ouch!"

"Mmm. It's not time to get up yet, Bonnie. Not when you decided to wake me up at six in the morning just as I'd gotten to sleep," He shifted, pushing himself further into his feather pillows. He still hadn't opened his eyes. "And you were cold too, I don't think my shins will ever recover from your icy toes."

Bonnie's concerns had been unnecessary and, she could admit to herself, a bit ridiculous. Damon was wearing a silk black pajama set that seemed both completely incongruous and wholly consistent with his character. But it was absolutely not the sea-soaked tuxedo he's been wearing on their lifeboat.

"Damon, let me up. I've got to get out of this dress." It itches." Her whining did the trick. He unwrapped his arms, allowing her to put some space between them again. But his hands found her hips, holding her in place, not letting her roll off of him. Bonnie tried to ignore that she was now straddling him, and the fact that her dress had ridden up to a scandalous height, even for the 21st century, in her sleep.

"You don't have to get out of bed to take off your clothes, Bonnie." He said, a leer on his face even with his closed eyes.

She punched his chest in retaliation, though it probably hurt her more than him.

"Ugh, Damon! Don't be gross." He laughed and let her go, pushing his hands underneath the pillow under his head and finally blinking his eyes open. Bonnie absolutely did not stare at them. Instead, she rolled away and climbed off the bed, thankful that she didn't have to face him as she willed the sudden heat in her cheeks to dissipate.

Bonnie struggled for a moment with the buttons at her back. The dress seemed much harder to maneuver now than it had been when she first put it on. Damon's hands caught her own, pushing them away from the long line of fastenings down her back. She curled her fingers into her skirt by her thighs, trying to push away whatever feeling this was. Bonnie hadn't even heard him move out of the bed, but the instant he'd stood behind her she'd been aware of him. His fingers barely brushed her back as he undid each hook. Bonnie focused on keeping her breathing steady. She was not awake enough for this.

"Might as well finish the job, I had to take off your shoes just to get some peace this morning." His snark was easy to deal with. She knew their banter like the back of her hand, and could navigate it easily.

"You willingly exposed yourself to my toes, and then you complain about them?" She said.

"Believe me, your cold toes were better than those heels. They were sharp and you kick."

Bonnie felt a bit contrite. He had let her sleep in her bed, ocean-smelling dress, intrusive toes, and all.

"Thank you, Damon, for letting me stay here."

"Letting you? Even unconscious you're an insistent one. There was no denying you."

Bonnie didn't bother arguing his kindness further. He'd finished unfastening the back of her dress, and completely undone the corset beneath it without prompting. She kept the two garments pressed to her chest, and internally thanked Stefan again for the slip he'd stolen for her. That last barrier, however thin, between Damon's fingers and her bare skin was the only thing keeping her upright.

"I've got a couple of things you can wear for now, but if I'm taking you out, we're going to have to hit the shops. We can't have you going out like this. You look like someone's drowned grandmother."

"And who said you were taking me out?"

"Don't be dull, Bonnie. I haven't seen you in thirty years, we're going out." He strode across the room, pulling a gray and shapeless dress from a drawer and threw it at her.

"Thirty years?" Damon stayed facing away from her, even as she questioned him. Bonnie let the dress pool at her feet, and stripped off the chemise, loosened corset, and stockings directly after. She slipped Damon's dress over her head and tried not to make a noise of displeasure. It really wasn't her style.

"Yup," He smacked his lips. "Thirty-one long lonely years without you Bonnie; you can't deny me now."

"Thirty years. That's the longest so far, I think. So, it's what? 1940?"

"November 28, 1942. But more importantly, it's a Saturday night and we're going dancing!"

Bonnie laughed at his sudden exuberance.

"Okay, I'll bite. Let's go dancing."

"Biting and dancing? Bonnie, you can't do this to me. And remember, shopping first!"

Bonnie allowed herself to be pulled out the door of his apartment and marveled at the teeming street they exited out onto. Damon's grin, somehow menacing and attractive at the same time, was contagious.

"That's it, Bonnie, we're young and in—" He stuttered, "in your hometown. Live a little!"

"My hometown? What are you talking about?" This was definitely not Mystic Falls. Nothing Bonnie had done in the past could change the sleepy Virginia town into this small metropolis.

Suddenly the space between them had disappeared. Damon loomed over her, and Bonnie couldn't tear her eyes away from his. Her blood pooled in her cheeks again. Why couldn't she control that? Shouldn't she be used to his attention by now? His eyes darted over her, from her eyes, to her lips, to her ruddy face. Bonnie's whole body, her very magic, seemed tuned into Damon. Her memory swam with the taste of his kisses and the feel of the lingering shadow her magic always revealed when they touched. No, she was not going to get used to the attention anytime soon.

"Look around, don't you recognize it? We're in Boston. Unless," he paused, "don't tell me you were lying about Boston too, Bonnie? That would just be too much."

She swallowed. They were stopped in the middle of the street and drawing a few looks.

"Weren't you bringing me somewhere? I need to get out of this ugly dress, people are staring." Damon's lips quirked, like he was going to press the point, before he simply shrugged and turned away.

"Come on, I know just the place."

* * *

"What do you think of this dress, ma'am?"

"Oh, no, you have to try on this one. It will bring out your eyes magnificently!"

"And with these shoes—"

"No, those won't go at all Kitty!"

Damon smirked at Bonnie from where he leaned against the wall. He'd been amused since they entered the shop and Bonnie had found herself surrounded by salesgirls. Damon had been the one to start laying money down, but it had been clear that Bonnie was the one they needed to makeover.

Bonnie felt like she was in a scene straight out of _Pretty Woman_ , which she and Caroline had watched alone after Mrs. Gilbert banned it due to inappropriate themes.

"And you should do your hair like this. Here, take a look." The attendant held a mirror to the left of Bonnie and she swiveled to see the proposed updo. She was distracted by the other women surrounding her, each holding a dress or accessory, excepting the one salesgirl holding her hair in place.

"I can't decide! There are so many choices, and I really have no idea what is in right now. I just…" Bonnie trailed off a bit overwhelmed. This shop was way more intense than Macy's at the local mall.

"She'll take that, that, that, and…this." Damon's choices seemed arbitrary, random, and Bonnie pursed her lips at his careless presumption. "Unless you object?" He turned to Bonnie, but the witch was assessing his choices.

"Isn't that a bit much? A bit dramatic?"

"Oh, ma'am. This is the latest fashion up from New York. It's totally vamp, and just perfect for you!" Damon grinned at the salesgirl's encouragements.

"Yeah Bonnie, the vamp look is just perfect for you." Bonnie rolled her eyes, but took the black dress held out in front of her. It was long and silky but had heavily structured shoulders. It definitely lived up to the term vamp.

"Don't forget the shoes!" Bonnie snatched the offending heels from his hands as she marched back into the dressing room.

"So, what are you up to lately Damon? Have you seen Stefan recently?"

"No, the last time I saw him was basically the last time I saw you. He's down south, at least last I heard."

"You haven't seen him in that long? Why?"

"Well we don't exactly enjoy each other's company, even when he's not on a blood binge, and I thought I'd give him a short break from the eternity of misery I promised him."

"Don't you think that whole eternity of misery thing is a bit much? Afterall, you know Katherine is alive, and it wasn't his fault that she was sleeping with both of you."

"What is this? Are you my head-shrinker now? You going to tell me I need to make up with my brother to lead a fulfilled life?"

"Damon, he's literally your only peer. Who else is going to understand your weird jokes about rationing during the Civil War?"

"Well one, Bonnie, rationing jokes are in again. America's at war, and this time it isn't so touchy a subject because it's not with itself. And two, I don't need Stefan for that, I have you."

"Damon, we've seen each other four times, including today, since you turned. That's not exactly a steady friendship."

"Who needs steady? And five, Bonnie. Don't forget the time I saw you dive out a window. And that puts you at an advantage over Stefan. Five positive interactions over eighty years? He's netted exactly zero."

"You count be jumping out a window as a positive interaction?"

"I caught you!" Well, that was more positive than the alternative.

"Whatever, the point is that you and Stefan have absolutely no reason to be fighting. You're brothers. You need each other."

"For what?"

"I don't know! I don't actually have siblings, you know. But he's the one person who can actually understand your past, as he has basically the same one. Don't you think it's time to put your fight with each other aside? For your own sakes? And who knows, you might find yourself on the same side in the future, a little camaraderie now might go a long way later."

"So you're saying I should take a page out of the country's book? Stop fighting with my brother so we can go fight someone else?"

"Not exactly what I was getting at, but sure."

"Alright Bonnie, I've been thinking about moving south anyway, New Orleans is apparently some kind of vampire paradise. I'll give Stefan a call and try to make up again, for you. Didn't work out too well last time, but what the hell. Maybe we'll go fight some Nazi scum. I promise I'll be thinking of you."

"I'm sure. But I'm glad you've changed your mind about Stefan. If you just gave each other a chance you could be brothers again."

"Bonnie, I already agreed, no need to get mushy. Now, get out here, we're all waiting with bated breath for the reveal."

Bonnie winced. She'd forgotten about the store staff. She hoped that none of them had heard the odder parts of their conversation. She didn't want to end this shopping trip with a round of compulsions. Bonnie drew in a breath and opened the curtain, prepared for comments from the peanut gallery. Only Damon was waiting on the other side.

His eyes ran up and down her body slowly, scorching her skin along the lines of the dress.

"This was definitely the right choice." When was the last time someone had looked at her like that? George hadn't even come close, and Ben, well Ben was a reminder why she shouldn't accept those looks at face value.

"Yeah, yeah, pat yourself on the back for picking a good dress. Are we going stay here the whole night? I thought we were going out?"

"We could just go back to mine, Bonnie. I wouldn't complain."

"No wriggling out of it now; you promised me dancing. Come on, let's paint the town red." She wheedled. Damon raised an eyebrow at her words, and Bonnie defended herself. "It's an expression! It has nothing to do with blood, get your mind out of the gutter."

"Not that gutter, Bonnie. I am definitely not thinking about blood right now." He paused, and Bonnie felt her blush rising again. "Or, I wasn't." Bonnie's face heated further. She'd always been grateful that her dark skin hid her flushes of embarrassment and infatuation, but his senses were stronger than the average human's, and his sense of blood was the strongest of all.

"Let's just go." She pushed past him to the door, stopping only momentarily to thank the women who'd assisted her. One thrust a matching purse into her hand, and Bonnie stowed her few valuables within. The saleswomen were happy to see her go, and happier still to count the cash that Damon laid down for the dress and their help.

"Do you always carry that much money on you?" Bonnie asked when they were a block away from the shop. He hadn't stopped her when she'd stomped her way down the street, just loped along easily to keep pace with her. She looped an arm through his, putting aside the tangled knot that developed in her stomach whenever they touched, or Damon got that look in his eye, or Bonnie thought about their shared kisses.

"Since that night on the Atlantic, yes. I'd grown too reliant on my powers; I'd forgotten I had any limits. And then, in a situation I really needed them, they failed me. But cash? Charles proved it was an effective motivator even in the most desperate times. I still prefer compulsion, of course, but sometimes the normal human way works too."

"I wouldn't call bribery the normal human way exactly." Bonnie said, but he waved away her rebuttal.

"It would have been normal for me. Human Salvatores were bribing people left and right when I was born, and I'm sure they still will be when I finally die."

"And you would have continued this proud tradition yourself?"

"Definitely. Can't you picture me? A grey-haired but still handsome patriarch, presiding over his flock of unruly children, and paying off every schoolmaster and society matron they've crossed."

"Still handsome?"

"You can't doubt that Bonnie!" He let go of her arm and smoothed a hand through his hair before dramatically striking a pose. Bonnie had to laugh.

"I just find it funny that you had to include it in your hypothetical scenario."

"I was painting a complete picture for you! Don't you think a little salt and pepper would suit me? I think I'd be rather dashing."

"Only a vampire would romanticize greying hair."

"Bonnie! You're exposing your true feelings. You only like me because I'm young and beautiful to look at. What if I'd never turned?" He counted on his fingers for a moment. "I'd be one hundred and three this year. Would you still love me even with withered skin and brittle bones?"

"Your liver would have given up long before a hundred, Damon, but I'd have been sure to shed a few tears over your grave."

His lips curled at the corners, no longer an overdramatic smile, but a real one.

"Well, at least I can count on you for that. Not too many tears mind you. I'd rather you crack a bottle open. Take a few sips yourself and pour one out for me."

"Just the one?"

"I don't want my cemetery neighbors to think I'm a lush on my first day, Bonnie." She laughed again, and he entwined their fingers, pulling her forward. "But that hardly matters. You won't be attending my funeral any time soon, and besides, we're here!"

Here was a brick building in a row of brick buildings. The structure itself was nothing special, but light poured out of the doorway, and Bonnie could hear the loud brass band music from their position across the street. A line stretched down the block to get in, and no one was coming out.

"Now this," Damon said, winking at Bonnie, "is something compulsion is still good for." He led her past the line and straight to the bouncer.

"We are important guests, and you will let us in."

"You are important guests, please go on in." The bouncer responded mindlessly. The hair at the back of Bonnie's neck bristled.

"I still don't like that. They become so lifeless."

"Well, I can't do it to you, so you have nothing to worry about."

"I happen to care about people outside myself, Damon." His lips quirked in the face of her mulishness.

He'd steered her into a smoky room. Tables dotted the edges, and a band played for the crowd of dancers. Many of the men were in uniform, but Damon's oddly cut suit matched those who weren't.

Bonnie saw his mouth moving, but the band and the people, shouting and dancing and laughing, overwhelmed her ears. She couldn't hear what Damon was saying to her.

"What?" She yelled back at him, forgetting that his vampire hearing could cut through the din. He leaned in, lips brushing her ear as he spoke.

"I said, let's dance." He tugged her arm and swung her onto the dancefloor.

This dance was nothing like the staid waltz at the Founder's Celebration. That night, she'd held herself straight with tension, keenly aware of where her body's was situated compared to his. Every point of contact between them had seared Bonnie's skin, and she'd felt the weight of the stares of Mystic Fall's high society from around the room. Their conversation had eased her mind somewhat, but not completely. She'd enjoyed the dance, more than she should have, and she'd stayed up half the night processing the emotions it brought out in her. But it hadn't been easy.

But here, in Boston and in Damon's arms again, this was simply fun. He spun her in, out, and slid across the floor behind her. Bonnie was actually shocked at how good his moves were. White boys in the past put way more effort into learning dances apparently. She couldn't imagine Matt twisting like the men on the floor around her. She twirled and twisted, frantically kicking as she tried to keep up with the moves of the crowd and her partner. Maybe her enjoyment was helped by the lack of alcohol rationing that had so plagued Damon in 1864, but Bonnie didn't think so. Just moving, losing herself in the music and the people, allowed her to throw a weight off her shoulders. Endorphins rushed through her and she laughed aloud, grinning up at Damon.

"This is great!" Bonnie spun, trying to follow the music and failing. When the third song ended, Damon smiled and leaned in.

"You want another drink?" Bonnie nodded.

"Water! I'm thirsty!" She collapsed into a booth at the side of the dancefloor, resting her head on the cool tabletop for a moment while she waited for Damon to return. She didn't want to contemplate what she looked like right now. Her dress had felt airy and thin on the walk to the club, but after a bit of dancing the silk was sticking to her like a second skin. Bonnie was sure her hair had completely lost whatever pins they'd crafted her hairstyle out of back at the shop. Still, it hardly mattered. The only person who knew her here was Damon, and he'd already seen her look like a half-drowned rat.

"Your beverage, little witch." Bonnie gulped down half of the tall glass of water before resting it against the side of her face. It was much cooler than the tabletop. Damon smirked at her over his own glass of bourbon.

"Feeling the heat?" She could just make out his words, and she could tell he was practically shouting them for her benefit. She ignored him, taking smaller sips from her glass. Just because he didn't have to sweat off the exertion didn't mean he could tease her for it.

Damon lit a cigarette and Bonnie grimaced. He held out his metal cigarette case to her, offering her one, as he pulled in a long drag. She shook her head, shooing the case away from her.

"No, just the smell of the smoke makes me sick." Damon snapped the case shut and flicked his own cigarette out of his hands. He made an aborted motion to wave the smoke away from their table before he seemed to realize how thick the smoke was on this side of the room. The tables were filling as the dancefloor lulled, and everyone had a cigarette in hand.

"You want to get out of here?" She chugged the rest of her water and took his hand. They escaped out a side door that had definitely been locked before Damon broke the knob.

Her ears rang with the sudden comparative silence of the empty road.

Damon jogged ahead of her before performing a short shuffle move in the street. Bonnie sputtered in disbelief.

"How many bourbons did you have when I wasn't looking?"

"None! Just drunk on life, Bon Bon!" He exclaimed.

She raised an eyebrow.

"Okay, so maybe a few at the bar. But, I'm barely feeling it. Vampire metabolism, remember?" He waited for her to catch up and fell into step beside her. He knocked his shoulder against hers once.

"So, Bonnie, tell me about you."

"What about me?"

"Whatever you want, favorite color, favorite city, your first crush, the name of your childhood teddy bear."

"Why?" He narrowed his eyes at her lack of answers.

"Because I want to know you. We've spent a lot of time together, but most of it was in my home and with my family. I'm at a disadvantage."

"Not much of one, I never met your teddy bear."

"Never had one, not a thing in my day. Stop dodging, Bonnie, hit me with some info."

"My favorite color is purple, I had a teddy bear named Ms. Cuddles when I was a kid, and I don't think I've travelled enough to pick a favorite city. I've never even left the country. One night on a boat in the middle of the ocean doesn't count." She rattled off her answers, shifting uncomfortably under his intent gaze.

"Don't think I didn't notice the question you skipped Bonnie, but I'll let you off the hook. For now."

"How generous of you."

"That's me, the pinnacle of goodness. Now what else should I ask you? Favorite book?"

"Nothing that's been written yet."

"Good literature in the future then? That hardly helps me now. What's your favorite book from before 1942?"

"Call of the Wild." Bonnie said with a smirk.

"That London book about dogs? Can't say I've been tempted to read it."

"You'll like it, I promise." Bonnie had never actually read the book, but she had it on his own authority that it was his favorite.

"Well, with your endorsement, how could I not?" Bonnie smiled, more to herself then at Damon. The streets were empty, and despite the sounds of honking and sirens in the distance, it felt like her and Damon has the whole city to themselves.

"Let's dance." She said, breaking the peaceful silence. Damon stopped short and looked confused.

"Do you want to go back to the Cocoanut Grove? Or find another club?" The witch shook her head at his words.

"No, I mean here, right now."

Damon looked like he wanted to question her more, but instead he just nodded. He stepped off the sidewalk and into the street.

"May I have this dance?" He extended his hand to Bonnie.

Bonnie took his hand with a smile and walked into his arms. The streetlights created pools of light on the dark asphalt, and Damon led them in a wild spinning pattern, in and out of the bright pockets. Bonnie's laughs bounced off the walls and echoed down the street.

Eventually, they slowed and swayed together, closer than they had danced in Mystic Falls. Damon hummed a familiar waltz. Bonnie rested her head on his chest, just breathing in the night air and the smell of his cologne.

"When am I going to see you again, Bonnie?"

Bonnie's breath caught in her throat. She had felt the words rumble through his chest, felt his breath on her hair as he'd spoken. She's heard the desperate plea in the question. His human life was defined by his mother's death, and his vampire one by Katherine's absence.

In a fit of clarity, Bonnie realized that she wanted to make him forget about everyone who'd left him, who'd broken a promise, who'd raised a hand in cruelty against him. She wanted to protect him and be protected in turn. Bonnie knew it was wrong, it wasn't healthy for her, or for him, but she wanted to stay.

She pulled away.

"I don't know." A siren wailed by, and then another. Damon's eyes didn't leave her face, but Bonnie couldn't speak, couldn't hear, with the noise. Another siren, just one street over from them. Another.

"What's going on?" Bonnie asked, in the second between one siren and the next. Damon closed his eyes, and Bonnie waited for him to tell her what he was hearing.

"There's a fire. It's on Piedmont Street. That's a few blocks away from us now." He stopped speaking. Another siren, a fire truck probably, sped by. Damon opened his eyes. "It's the Cocoanut Grove."

"The Cocoanut Grove? The club we just left?" She asked. Damon nodded and frowned.

"It's bad. The whole place has gone up, and they can't get out most of the doors."

Bonnie gasped, thinking of the hundreds of people who had surrounded them, the five-customer-deep crowd around the bar, the hallways lined with fake and flammable palm trees.

"Bonnie? Are you okay?"

Bonnie shook her head.

"No, I'm not. Every time I arrive, I try to forget the awful things I have just seen, just experienced. And I see you and I do forget for a while, but then something else comes again. Everywhere I go people die! Maybe I'm the one causing it."

"What? Don't be ridiculous. How could you have caused this?"

"The cigarette! You flicked it away because I said I didn't like the smell. You didn't put it out first, it was lit, that probably started the fire!" Bonnie's voice got louder and louder and higher and higher. Damon put his hands on her shoulders.

"Bonnie! Bonnie! Look at me!" Bonnie's eyes focused on his and she stopped talking. "Even if that cigarette started the fire, which we have no idea if it did, that isn't on you. You said it; I was the one who flicked it away without putting it out."

"But I—"

"Yes, I did it because you said you didn't like the smell. But Bonnie? It was still me. You can't take on guilt for something that someone else does, even if it was for you. Okay?" Bonnie nodded.

"Okay. Now, about this bigger idea that you're somehow causing all of the tragedies you've witnessed. That's wrong. Nothing you did caused the Titanic, or the massacre near Deadwood, and I know you weren't the one who shot the President. You being there doesn't mean you caused them."

"I could have stopped them."

"No, I'm pretty sure you couldn't have. You're not all-powerful or all-knowing Bonnie. You can't expect yourself to be able to save everybody all the time. You'll lose yourself." Bonnie shook her head in denial. Damon held her head, wiping away tears she didn't even know she'd been crying with his thumbs.

"Bonnie, listen to me. You are not causing this. You've done everything you could to save people. Because you, Bonnie McCullough, are good." The sound of her fake name from his lips did more to shock her out of her daze than anything else.

"That's not my name."

"What?"

"It doesn't matter. You're right. I've always tried, and I shouldn't let self-pity get in the way of that this time. Let's go back to the club and see what we can do."

Bonnie didn't say another word on the walk back to the Cocoanut Grove. She'd arrived to tragedies every time, with no idea why or how, and she hadn't questioned it. Instead she'd let herself be distracted over and over again by Damon's face and charm and the warm feeling she got when he smiled.

She'd been stupid. Who did she think she was? This man wasn't for her, now or ever. He'd been in love with Katherine since she'd met him, and even in the future, after he learned of her betrayal, he'd hadn't turned to Bonnie. They weren't friends. He didn't even look at Bonnie in the future; if he didn't want something from her he avoided her. And from her distance she'd seen what was in his eyes when he looked at Elena. What was missing when he looked at her.

The few times Bonnie had allowed herself to think of her return, to consider what her life would be like, she'd somehow forgotten that their animosity wasn't one-sided. Damon was rude and cruel and yes, possibly in love with her best friend. She'd nearly killed him, and he'd nearly killed her, and she'd saved his life once, begrudgingly. She didn't know what had changed, but she couldn't take that from him. She'd been so disturbed by compulsion, but was she any better? Meddling in a person's past so deeply wasn't right. She was re-writing Damon's history, changing his memories, changing him. So that he would be friendlier to her in the future? So he would continue to look at her in a way that made her feel warm and safe and seen? Bonnie felt sick. This had to stop.

Damon stopped her before she entered the alley that connected their street to Piermont.

"Come on, let's check it out from the roof first." He leapt for the fire escape and pulled down the retractable ladder. He lifted her the last few feet to the bottom rung, allowing Bonnie to start climbing. The building was across the street from the club, and its roof offered an unimpeded view of the blaze at the Cocoanut Grove. Firetrucks stood outside, and water poured from their hoses as ambulances arrived and quickly sped away, loaded with victims of the inferno.

There were hundreds of people in the street, screaming and crying and still burning. Bonnie focused on the flames. Just before she'd left the 21st century she had controlled the flames of the council-lit fire at Dr. Gilbert's old practice. She'd hung onto Elena's arm, not just to hold her friend back, but also to anchor herself. From her talk with Emily, Bonnie now knew that she had been drawing from Elena as part of her coven, using her to focus her emotions and energy.

This fire was much bigger, and much hotter.

"I need your help." She said. Damon tore his eyes away from the club.

"Bonnie, I can't go in there. That fire will kill me as sure as a stake through the heart."

"I know, that's not what I'm asking. Just come here." Bonnie grabbed his wrist once he'd gotten close enough to her. She felt the shift in her magic, the uptick in power and focus. The glare of the flames lessened slightly.

Bonnie stopped chanting for a moment, pausing to catch her breath. The light of the fire danced across Damon's pale face. He was staring at her in wonder. Bonnie's stomach swooped. This couldn't continue, even if she didn't want it to end.

She slid her hand down his wrist and slipped her hand into his, interlocking their fingers. Her heart swelled and her power surged. Bonnie smiled tremulously up at him before she refocused on the fire.

She didn't want to think about how one day his hand wouldn't grip hers back, or how her jumps had been getting further apart, or how she was now probably just a couple of trips away from her own present. She didn't want to think about Damon in that future, and how all of her memories of him were now colored by the Damon that she knew, that she's friends with, that she's kissed, that she could, and maybe did, love. She didn't want to think about the ultimatum she laid down before she left, or the accident she may have caused, or the look in Damon's eyes when he looked at Elena.

But Bonnie wasn't one for purposeful denial. This whole trip had resulted from her selfishness, and she couldn't say she hadn't learned. For all that Bonnie wanted to be selfish in this moment, she couldn't be. So she chanted to kill the flames in the club where she had danced, and she pulled energy from the vampire next to her. Her mind wasn't on either. Instead, it mulled over everything she did not want to think about, and over it all she heard the voice of Emily, worried about Bonnie's accidental coven. _You would do anything, give anything to protect them. If they're not willing to do the same…you could end up hurt and powerless._

Bonnie couldn't allow a rejection to break her. She had to learn to stand alone. Bonnie squeezed his fingers tightly one last time, steeled herself for the outpouring of magic, and let go of Damon's hand. He tried to catch it, to tighten his fingers and keep hold of her, but she pulled away.

"Damon, I need you to leave." Bonnie choked out.

"What are you talking about? I'm not going to just leave you here."

"I can't focus, I need to be alone now." His hand flexed and his jaw clenched, but he took a few steps back.

"Just for this spell. I'll go and get you a coat, okay? And some water. I'll be right back." Bonnie shook her head.

"No. I don't need anything." Damon took a step forward, and Bonnie could already tell he was going to be stubborn about this. She needed to head him off.

"I need a few hours alone with this. Come back at dawn, okay? We can get breakfast." Her reassurances hadn't worked that well because Damon had completely closed the distance between them. He stooped down, so he could look directly into her eyes without her craning her neck.

"Will you still be here at dawn?" Bonnie shrugged but kept her face hard, unyielding. She thought the length of her trips had been stretching, but she wasn't sure how long she'd been asleep in Damon's bed. She really needed to be more scientific about this.

"Okay. Alright, I'll go. But I'll be back at sunrise, on the dot, and we're getting pancakes."

"Sounds good." Bonnie said, nodding and trying to smile. He didn't break eye contact.

"Yeah, it will be good. You just have to be here." He pressed a kiss to her forehead before backing away again. He didn't turn from her, but walked backwards all the way to the other edge of the roof. He stopped short of the ledge and Bonnie lifted her hand to wave weakly.

"See you soon." Bonnie's words sounded false to her own ears, but they made Damon smile. Bonnie couldn't see the dimple at this distance, but she knew it was there. She'd memorized his face, his smile, without even realizing it. He dropped off the edge and disappeared into the night.

Bonnie turned back to the fire. She stayed on the roof, trying to control the blaze as best she could. Every time she thought she had it completely managed, enough for the fire hoses to do their jobs, it would reach a new cache of tinder, and burst forth again. It began to rain, but the fire still didn't die.

Eventually, Bonnie had to sit, wet and exhausted, and watch as people's own cars, and various delivery trucks, were brought in to bring people to hospitals. The city had run out of ambulances. So Bonnie sat, alone, with a fire at her back. When her bloodstone began to gain heat, Bonnie felt it against her thigh, through her dress and the purse she'd put it in. Bonnie reached in and grabbed it, pulling it from where it had lain, nestled neatly against her grandfather's necklace.

The stone burned, so hot that it should be blistering her skin, but her hand showed no signs of its heat. Bonnie looked up at the sky. It was full of smoke, but black as pitch. Dawn was still hours away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title from: a cat in gloves catches no mice 
> 
> I originally wanted to use an Inception reference in this (as Bonnie is thinking through the implications of changing Damon's past) but it didn't come out until July of 2010. Since Bonnie left in February, it was left unwritten :(
> 
> [Bonnie's 'vamp' dress](https://cinqjours.tumblr.com/post/620600668466626560/lauren-bacall-promotional-shoot-for-to-have-or)


	17. gathers no moss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: mentioned sexual assault. Details in endnotes.

_You pile up associations the way you pile up bricks._   
_Memory itself is a form of architecture._   
_—Louise Bourgeois_

Unlike previous trips, Bonnie's awareness remained crystal clear. One moment she was on a roof, the next she was not. Instead, she sat in a mostly empty room, just her and the dark-haired vampire sitting in the chair across from her.

"Hello darling popsy, long time no see." Bonnie rolled her eyes at that smirk.

"Seriously? That's what you greet me with, popsy? After how many years?"

"A hundred and twenty, but who's counting? And I wasn't going to call you babe, no matter what the modern slang is. Did you miss me?" Katherine's smirk widened into an actual smile. It was infectious and Bonnie had to grin back, despite her reservations and confusion. The vampire darted forward, practically throwing herself into Bonnie's lap for a hug. Bonnie tried to reciprocate, but her arms felt heavy and sluggish.

"Katherine? I don't feel so good." The vampire sprang back. Looking into Bonnie's eyes intently.

"It seems like it worked, you're probably just still adjusting, this was kind of a gamble in the dark."

"Adjusting to what?" Something on Bonnie's inner elbow hurt, like a bug bite. She looked down at her right arm and saw an IV drip and she reached down to pull it out. Her fingers weren't reacting right and, now that Bonnie looked at her hand and her arm, they didn't look right either. No ring, but it wasn't just that. Her fingers looked longer than normal, her forearms more muscled, and her skin was a shade darker than it had been for the last seventeen years of her life.

Katherine hadn't answered but was instead shifting her weight back and forth almost nervously.

"Katherine, what did you do to me?" At the accusation, the vampire straightened her stance and set her jaw.

"It's nothing bad or permanent. Just a little unusual. Besides, we needed to talk."

"Less excuses, more explaining."

"Geez, the Bennett annoyed expression really comes through." Bonnie glared, and Katherine sat back down. She leaned forward, elbows on her thighs, and adopted a serious expression. "Okay, here's the deal. You're not really here right now. Well, you are, but your body isn't. I kinda used a spell to hijack your consciousness." Katherine said, like magical bodysnatching was no big deal.

"What? Where's my body? And whose is this? And what's with the IV? Is that blood?" Katherine stretched out a hand and placed a finger over Bonnie's lips. Bonnie jerked her head backwards but didn't continue with her panicked interrogation.

"I'm not exactly sure where your body is right now, but we could find out…maybe. The body you're borrowing belongs to an acquaintance of mine, Mara. She's a Gemini member. They're always interested in doing this sort of experimental stuff, so she volunteered."

"How do you not know where my body is? And what spell is this?"

"I tend not to ask for witchy details beyond the results. I tracked your patterns, noticed that Damon always seems to find you, asked a seer when you would next arrive, and tried this possession spell. The blood is a Bennett's. I had to steal it from a donation drive of all places, like a common thief. I can't even approach my favorite family of witches anymore. Damon might have gotten lax on the protection detail recently, but not that lax." She ran through her exertions lazily, like it had taken no effort on her part. But Bonnie wasn't leaving notes behind wherever she went, and tracking down both a seer and a complex possession spell took time. Katherine must have really wanted to talk to her.

Bonnie eyed the IV running into her veins. Bennett blood Katherine had said. But which Bennett?

"Thanks for the partial explanation, but you skipped the why."

"I told you, we needed to talk."

"About what exactly?" Bonnie asked.

"Were you here a hundred years ago?"

"That kind of depends on where here is. And what year it is now."

"It's 1984, and we're in Chicago."

"I've never been to Chicago." Bonnie's words were confident, and Katherine released a huge sigh of relief.

"Well that makes this whole thing pointless. I had my doubts, but a story reached me about you jumping out of a window into Damon Salvatore's waiting arms, and, well, I had to check."

Bonnie winced, knowing she was about to remove the relief from her friend's voice.

She thought about letting it go, but couldn't Every lie she had told since finding out about her powers, to her father, to Caroline, to the Salvatore brothers, and to herself, weighed on her conscience. Ever since she'd experienced the relief of telling Damon the truth, of her situation if not his own, she'd avoided using actual lies as much as she could. Maybe that was why her heart was easily swayed by Damon's kisses and proposal; she wanted them to be real; she didn't want to live another lie. Until, of course, he reminded her of the rather large one she'd kept about her identity.

"Actually, that might have been me. I didn't know I was in Chicago," Bonnie searched her adrenaline-blurred memory of that day. She vaguely remembered the buttoned-up vampire mentioning Chicago, but that information seemed less useful at the time than keeping track of Klaus's every move and mood. "I didn't really get to see the city that day."

"So you arrived falling out a window that Damon just happened to be under?"

Bonnie shook her head.

"No. I arrived in a basement, or a cellar, or something. It was some weird, underground, ritual room." She shivered at the memory. Katherine had stood and was circling the room restlessly as Bonnie talked. Bonnie ignored the way the hairs on her neck pricked up every time the vampire passed behind her. Did that reaction belong to her, or to the witch whose body she currently inhabited? Both probably.

"He had just killed a coven of witches. Or maybe they killed themselves. It was hard to tell." Bonnie swallowed. She'd left a field of horror, the bodies of the Lakota that had lain for hours after the massacre, and arrived to a room of the freshly dying. The memories overlapped each other, the cool of the stone chamber and the heat of the plains, blending into one nightmare.

"He?" Katherine had stopped pacing but had not turned to face Bonnie. Her word was sharp, a whip of a question. She stood, on the balls of her feet, by the room's single window, as if she would leap from it at any moment.

"There was a vampire. Well, more than one. I think he said they were his siblings." Bonnie hesitated. She almost didn't want to say his name, it looked like Katherine would snap in two with the confirmation. "He introduced himself as Klaus, and he was asking about you."

Rather than breaking, as Bonnie had feared she would, Katherine simply nodded.

"Okay. Okay. So, it was Klaus," She nodded again, talking more to herself than to Bonnie. Bonnie took the moment to stand. Her body still felt wrong, heavy, but her limbs were responding to her mind's instructions now. Bonnie delicately removed the needle from her arm, wincing as she pulled out its length. She flexed her fingers and shook out her legs.

"You said siblings?" Katherine asked, louder, and actually directed at Bonnie this time. The memories came back to the witch more clearly, as she brushed aside the blur of joy and panic that had followed on the Titanic.

"Yes, Rebekah, his sister, and a brother, Elijah." An array of emotions flitted across Katherine's face; sorrow, curiosity, then fear, before her jaw clenched and she settled on determination.

"Okay." She said again. "I can't do this sober. Let's go."

Katherine ordered a bottle of liquor that Bonnie didn't recognize the name of. It sat between their two full glasses, but neither had moved to drink. The bartender was wiping down the other end of the bar, avoiding entering within earshot of the two women's conversation. Not that there was much of one. Katherine seemed to be debating what to say. From what Bonnie remembered of her often-duplicitous friend in 1864, this reluctance usually meant she was preparing herself to actually tell the truth.

Self-conscious of the silent bar and her full glass, Bonnie steeled herself and took a swig. She'd largely inured herself to the burn of bourbon, a necessity when hanging out with Elena and the Salvatores, and nothing would ever taste as bad as that vervain tincture, but she wasn't prepared for this strong burnt sweetness. She only just managed to swallow.

"I see you're not used to the good stuff. So, the drinking age stays ridiculously high in the future then? Buck up, Bonnie, I used to get this in my baby bottle." Just the thought made Bonnie want to gag. Katherine's amused quirked eyebrow looked so similar to the face Elena made when watching Bonnie sputter over her first sip of tequila. The witch turned her head away to dispel the image.

"What is this?" She asked, disgust clear in her voice.

"Rakia, though it's not as strong as my mother made it. No one else as managed to make the plums burn quite like she did." Katherine threw back her own glass and, with a look of satisfaction, refilled it. Bonnie took a smaller, much smaller, second sip.

"I guess it's not so bad." She ventured. Insulting the alcohol of someone's mother didn't seem like something that would ever go over very well, and Katherine seemed uncharacteristically sensitive at the moment.

"No insulting the drink, even if it's swill." Katherine swirled her glass. "It brings back a lot of memories. If you want something else, just order it, it's on me." This offer wasn't exactly generous. Katherine had compelled the bartender to hand over the first bottle for free, and would no doubt do the same for any drink Bonnie ordered.

"I'm fine for now. Not like I have any drinks of sentimental value." Katherine snorted.

"Give it a few years. But for now, I'll share mine." Katherine topped off her glass and Bonnie took another small sip. "Soon enough you'll have a drink that will remind you of home, a city that will evoke all your deepest fears, a color that will always make you think of the seven years that you and your best friend didn't speak because you disagreed over the fate of Fanny Price."

"How do you know Klaus?" Bonnie asked, hoping to push Katherine out of her melancholic musings.

"What did Klaus ask about?" Katherine countered before Bonnie had even finished speaking.

Bonnie decided she would answer first. She could afford to be nice.

"Mostly he was confirming I knew you. And then he tried to kill me. But he called you another name—" Bonnie hesitated over the half-remembered accented consonants.

"Katerina Petrova." Katherine spoke. The name, so lyrical on the tongues of the vampire brothers, was imbued with defeat on hers. "My birth name."

She didn't offer anything else.

"So, you knew Klaus when you were still calling yourself Katerina?" Bonnie asked hesitantly, unsure what this story would unravel into. The fact that it involved another pair of vampire brothers was not lost on her.

"I knew Klaus when I was human." Bonnie's eyes widened, but Katherine didn't look at her. Her eyes didn't leave the liquid in her glass.

"Since my first day in Chicago I have known this bar had Rakia. I haven't drank any in a century, but I suppose now would be the time."

Bonnie really didn't need to know anymore about the drink, and was much more curious about the ancient vampire who tried to kill her just for knowing Katherine, but she stayed quiet. It was hard to ignore the waves of sadness coming off the vampire, and Katherine had said she needed to be drunk to share. They could linger on the liquor until her friend was ready.

"Why now? Homesick?"

"Not in the way you're imagining, I'm sure, but maybe something similar. I've reached that special age in a vampire's existence, the Change of Life, Pearl used to call it. It's been coming on gradually, but I can't deny it anymore."

"Menopause?" Bonnie asked. It had been an incredulous knee jerk response to Katherine complaining like Grams used to bemoan over her hot flashes.

"No, though I guess some find it comparable." For the first time in the conversation, Katherine looked directly at Bonnie. "I supposed you've heard that vampires have a switch, and that one flip of it means no emotions?" Bonnie nodded. "Well that's true. And it's great. You can turn off everything unpleasant, no guilt, sadness, or pain. Probably some kind of evolutionary thing to help young vampires when they first turn. But that switch hasn't been as clear to me for a while, emotions have been creeping back in, without anyway to exorcise them. Recently, the switch disappeared completely. So now I have to live with everything I've done." Katherine held her glass up, toasting some invisible past victim. "About time, I guess."

"Wow. Rough life." Bonnie motioned for the bartender. She wasn't about to sympathize with Katherine for having to feel her well-deserved guilt for manipulating and murdering her way through the centuries. She was her friend, not her therapist. Bonnie ordered the bar's largest fruity cocktail. She was still human, with no advanced metabolism, so she had no need to drink liquor straight when she wanted to get drunk.

"What does this have to do with Klaus?" Bonnie prompted, no longer inclined to wait.

"I was getting to that." Bonnie mirrored Katherine's previous expression, one eyebrow raised. The vampire set down her glass without refilling it. "Okay, I'll stop with the pity party. Let's see, where should I start?"

"The beginning?"

"Wow Bonnie, it's like none of us have heard that one before."

Bonnie waited, and Katherine's snappishness faded into contrition. She sighed, and began,

"I was born a Petrova. We were an old family, but we hadn't been at the top of the food chain for a while. My father had only made the situation worse. When I was young he bet everything on a single harvest season. When the rains came, too long and too heavy, the crop was lost, and everything with it. We were forced to sell and rent our own home; we were tenants where we'd once been lords."

Bonnie made a small noise of encouragement.

"We didn't own the land we worked on, the food we grew, or even ourselves, not really. We were owned by the boyar, he by the Tsar, and the Tsar by the Turks. But my father no longer held any serfs; he basically was one himself, so he was at the very bottom. Except his wife and daughters, of course. They were below even him."

Katherine took a deep swig straight from the bottle, even though her glass wasn't empty. Bonnie remembered the light that danced in the vampire's eyes when Bonnie had mentioned university so casually, as a goal well within a young woman's reach.

"But me, I was special. I was the eldest, and I was smart, and pretty, and most importantly, I was ruthless. The family had their hopes pinned on me, and with the way that the boyar's son watched me…well, it seemed like their hope was not in vain. A marriage like that would have made me a real golden goose; it would have saved us all." Katherine finally poured out another glass. Bonnie's cocktail arrived covered in fruit and umbrellas. They half-heartedly clinked their drinks together.

"I'm guessing you didn't get married to him. What happened?"

"What happened? What I should have expected; what we all should have expected with our lowly place. Pyotr had certainly been watching me, but not with love. No matter how pretty or charming or cunning, I was much too poor to be his bride. Too poor to even woo me as his mistress, which my father would have happily settled for. So instead he took what he wanted, what he'd really been thinking of while I daydreamed about wedding feasts and the envious faces of my sisters. And after he was finished, he let a few friends take a turn too."

Bonnie's mouth had fallen open in horror. The vampire continued, tone more blasé than it had been all night.

"Of course, I tried desperately to hide it. Burned my bloody skirts, made up a horse-riding accident to explain away the bruises. But these things have a way of making themselves known, especially as this was long before the wonders of modern medicine and women's liberation. No little pills to prevent inconveniences."

"You were pregnant?"

"Yup. And for some reason, this is what broke my father. This was the family's great shame. Not our poverty, his gambling, or the bowing and scraping we were forced to carry on whenever one of our so-called betters graced us with their presence. No, it was my baby that brought shame to our family." Katherine's voice had been gaining volume and anger, but just as quickly as they had come on, they left. She continued quietly, eyes staring into the lacquered bar like it would show her something other than peanut shells and cigarette burns. "And then they took her from me. They didn't even let me hold her once."

"Katherine, I'm…"

"Don't say you're sorry. Nothing to do with you. And could you even imagine? Me, as a mother?"

Bonnie could barely imagine Katherine taking care of a plant, let alone a baby.

"But all this exposition is hardly important, I'm just trying to find excuses for my stupidity."

"None of that was your fault Katherine."

"Yeah well, that doesn't exactly help me feel less stupid, even now. Anyway, I need a little more lubrication before I can continue this walk down memory lane. Let's talk about something else."

"Alright. Umm…" Bonnie struggled to think of something to say. Was she supposed to be comforting Katherine or distracting her? "Where is my body, really?" She settled on, and the other woman took up the topic gamely.

"Have you noticed that you always end up in certain places, in certain situations?" Bonnie thought about the tragedies she fell into, and how Damon was always there, and nodded.

"Emily mentioned something. I'm not very well-versed in magic, so you'll have to look into it more once you settle into your own time. But she said something about death and its aftermath, and she talked about a magic I'd never heard of before. Something called Expression."

"Never heard of it." Bonnie said. Katherine shrugged.

"Neither have I, but like I said, I'm not the most witchy vampire around."

"Did she say anything about the magic creating a bond? Or a tether to a specific person?"

Katherine smirked.

"Why Bonnie, is this you telling me that you feel a magical bond to Damon Salvatore?" Bonnie blushed but shook her head.

"No, he's just always been there. A bit much for a coincidence."

"You travel to Damon? Every single time? I thought maybe there'd been more instances, and I was only hearing about it when you were both present."

"Not right next to him or anything, but we always seem to find each other." Katherine looked nervous. "What's wrong? Do you think that's bad?"

"I just wouldn't want to be around Damon right now, if I were you."

"Why not?"

"That switch we were talking about? Something happened to Damon a few years back, and he flipped his. He's been ripping his way through the old country for the last decade. Even I lost track of him a couple of months ago when he came back to the states. He's been on and off the radar out west, very erratic. I doubt you would want to see him like this. I don't know if he wouldn't eat you himself."

"What?" Bonnie scrambled off her barstool. "I have to get back to my own body! If Damon's off his humanity he'll kill me!" Katherine rested her chin in her palm, looking up at Bonnie lazily.

"Mara's body is burning that Bennett blood out, but you can't make it go any faster. Once you're through, you're through. Unless you suddenly have the power to teleport us to a completely unknown location, figure out exactly where your body is, and still have some leftover to fight Damon, there's not much we can do. You'll just have to wait it out."

"I'm supposed to just sit here and drink while my body is God knows where? Who knows what could be happening! Damon could drain me dry and I wouldn't even know!"

"I think you'd know. Probably. Besides, I think you should be more worried about _why_ you're wherever you are. So many fun possibilities. There was a rash of earthquakes earlier this year, and I heard about some Satanic schoolteachers sacrificing their students last week. Plus, the Unabomber could strike at any minute. Really this year has been a mess, and that's just the U.S. Even if we turned on the news, it'd barely narrow down the potential spots. "

"What? Kath—!"

"Bonnie, you'll just have to trust Damon. Even if it's just trusting that he'd rather have fun and kill you when you're aware and awake, instead of when you're unconscious and boring."

"We don't even know if Damon found me this time."

"You just said that he's always found you before."

"That was different. I wasn't just a slumped over body, I found him," Or she told someone her name and they brought her to him. But Damon wouldn't be talking about her now, not when he had his emotions off. He would hardly care to create a backstory. "and Damon had emotions."

"Don't worry, even with our emotions off, vampires retain some…imprint of what they love. I'm sure he won't harm you; I was kidding before, mostly. He's probably just waiting for you to wake up so he can seduce you to the dark side."

"You're sure?" Bonnie asked, not wanting to question the L word just yet. Or the Star Wars reference.

"Not really. But I'm drunk enough to continue my story, and there's nothing we can do for your body right now, so you might as well sit back down and rejoin my pity party."

Katherine pushed Bonnie's glass closer to the glaring witch.

"Come on, take a drink, lose yourself in my tragic backstory for a while."

Bonnie huffed out a laugh and reached for her glass. Maybe she'd be less worried with another drink. And she'd forget Damon's hurt and worried eyes from the rooftop. Katherine had said something had happened to Damon in the fifties, which meant it was at least a decade after they'd last seen each other. Not her fault, she heard Damon whisper. But could she have stopped it? Would she have? She hadn't protected him from the hurt she knew was coming his way in the future.

"Lay it on me. What happened next?"

"After they took my daughter, they kicked me out of the family home. No one in all the Balkans would have accepted a ruined woman in their house, so my mother called in one last favor for me. My last bit of family kindness. Her younger brother was a first mate on a merchant ship, and he secured me a spot on a journey for England."

"You moved to England?"

"More than moved, I became English." She said this with an overexaggerated posh accent. "Not that they spoke like that back then. But I ran a couple scams, swindled some nobodies out of their money, and had set my sights on an old widower. I would be able to live comfortably after his death, and maybe, with that inheritance, I'd be able to find my daughter." Katherine took a deep breath.

"Instead, Klaus found me. He was Lord Niklaus then, and he was richer than a king. He was smart and charming and ruthless. I thought, this is him. This is the man I've been waiting for. But still, I'd learned. I could love Klaus, but I couldn't trust him. He was like Pyotr, a man who could turn on me at any moment. But he had something Pyotr never did, my weakness so to speak."

"What?"

Katherine laughed, a wet choking sound that was almost a sob.

"Klaus had a brother."

"Elijah?" Bonnie asked. Katherine nodded.

"Elijah. He was everything I wasn't prepared for, and he crept up on me. He was sweet and kind. And, I thought, honest. He didn't pretend with honeyed words like Klaus did. Klaus was the man I had been waiting for, my equal in all things, but Elijah was a man I'd never imagined existing."

The near-empty bottle of rakia was replaced with a new one, and Katherine quickly cracked the seal.

"I was in love with them both, I can admit that now of course, but I never really knew either of them. They were vampires, and I was little more than a lost child. They thought less of me than they did their hunting dogs, and they only continue to think of me now because I ruined their sport."

"Klaus certainly doesn't seem to have fond memories of you."

Katherine snorted.

"He wouldn't. I wasn't as biddable as his dogs or his followers. I wanted to live, and they wanted to sacrifice me over some alter to break their curse."

"Wait, what? They were sacrificing people, not just, you know, eating them?"

Bonnie was shocked. She'd heard of the rare human sacrifice being used to fuel spells, and had seen the aftermath of Klaus's attempt at something, but it was still surprising. Plus, Katherine wasn't exactly the first person you pictured for a virgin sacrifice type deal.

"Not just any people, me. Specifically me. They called me a doppelganger. Apparently I look like one of my ancestors, exactly alike. Can you believe that?"

Bonnie nodded mutely. Yes, she could definitely believe that. But a doppelganger? What did that even mean? It was a name for why Katherine and Elena looked identical, but not an explanation.

"I couldn't believe it, but it explained a lot. Why Niklaus and Elijah had found me, had recognized me. Why Elijah acted as he did. He loved the original woman, not me. Not that I can hold that against him anymore, I've now done the same."

"You found another doppelganger?" How many had there been between Katherine and Elena?

"What? No. I meant the Salvatores. I was reliving history in a way, with Stefan and Damon. A pair of brothers, alike in blood but not in dignity, and a girl caught between them. But this time I had all the power and I could make them love me. Both of them."

Bonnie grimaced, but didn't interrupt.

"I never even planned to turn them, not really. Nothing beyond idle fantasies. Maybe Damon, eventually. He was so eager for eternity, but we never would have lasted together. He gets too easily attached." Bonnie caught Katherine's side eye. "I put one person first in my life, me. Damon never got that."

"As for Stefan…I thought about it. But I don't think I could have watched the love leave his eyes after he transitioned. I knew he wasn't like me. The love he felt for the monster wouldn't have lasted past the unmasking."

"And yours did?"

"Maybe, I don't know. I've lived without emotions for so long, I'm having trouble living with them now. There's obviously some attachment, I tried to recreate the situation even with my switch off. But maybe that was just some latent form of masochism. I knew Elijah would never love me, just like Klaus, or Pyotr, or later the Salvatores. I wanted his love, but I couldn't even get his stand-in to feign it without compulsion."

Bonnie cringed.

"I just wanted to feel—it doesn't matter. None of it does. I've lived the past 500 years looking over my shoulder, terrified I'll find Klaus standing there. It hasn't been so bad this century, but I doubt that luck will last."

"He thinks you're in the tomb."

"Who?"

"Klaus. Well, everyone else too, but Klaus knows about the tomb in Mystic Falls, and he thinks you're locked inside. He's been keeping tabs on you, I guess. He recognized me from that photograph Emily and I took." Bonnie thought over what else the vampire had said to her in between threats. "He said he made sure that Emily burned, for helping you."

"Pearl always said I would get Emily killed. I guess she was right. You remind me of her, you know?"

"Of Emily?"

"No, Pearl. Just as judgmental of me, but just as capable of badassery when you let yourself go. Emily was capable too, but you'd never know it with how controlled she was."

Bonnie shifted uncomfortably. She'd rather have been compared to Emily, despite the bad blood between them from their first meeting. In her own time, she'd never known Pearl as anything except a threat to her town and had been relieved to hear she was dead. To be compared to her, by Katherine, Pearl's closest friend, was unsettling. She doubted Pearl would appreciate it either, considering the role Bonnie played in her daughter's death.

"Oh."

"Don't look so glum about it. I doubt Pearl will want to pal around with me after she was locked away in the tomb for so long while I ran free. You won't have to fight to be my best friend."

"I'm your best friend?"

"Well, since I don't have any other friends right now, it's easy for you to be the best one. Besides, who but a best friend would lie to a powerful vampire for me? You did lie right? You didn't use the past tense, so you didn't let Klaus in on our secret?"

"No, I didn't. But I'd stay away from Virginia in 2009. He said he'd be waiting for you when the comet passes."

"He can wait all he wants; I doubt Anna is ever going to get it open. I gave her some clues when I saw her a few months ago, but really? She's not much of a leader that one."

"I think Damon will be in the lead on this one."

"Damon? Why would he want to open the tomb?"

Bonnie stared, incredulous.

"Why would Damon Salvatore want to open the tomb that he thinks you're stuck inside? Gee, I don't know Katherine."

Katherine set down her glass with a thunk.

"Damon still thinks I'm in the tomb? You haven't told him?"

Bonnie shook her head.

"Bonnie, why haven't you told him?"

Bonnie shifted uncomfortably.

"He knows I'll be there when we open it, and he knows I'm a time traveller. I just didn't want to lay too much on him at once."

"Bullshit."

"Okay, unnecessarily harsh."

"I've just shared my human past, Bonnie. I think you can spare me some honesty. So what is it? You're scared if he isn't after the tomb he won't protect you and your family?" She paused as she pondered the problem aloud. "He has been protecting Emily's descendants. But if he wasn't doing that, you have no guarantee that you would be born. You would get back to the future and find out you never existed. Isn't that a paradox? Gosh, this should be a movie."

Bonnie nodded but then shook her head.

"No, well yes. That is part of it, but he doesn't know I'm a Bennett."

"What? But all those times you've met him and he protected you…he didn't know you were a Bennett?"

"At first, I just forgot he didn't know. It's weird to remember when he obviously knows who I am in the future. But I also didn't want him to have to protect me because of his promise to Emily, and I didn't know how long this would go on anyway. Time travel hardly comes with a manual." Bonnie said, but she knew it was more than that. It was more than telling him her name. it was the fear that if she told him, if she laid all her cards on the table, it wouldn't be enough. Of course, that was stupid to think about now. It would never have been enough.

"I'll tell him next time, okay? About me at least." Considering she'd jumped forty years this time, and there were only twenty-six between her and home, this wasn't much of a promise. He'd already know everything. "And if I'd tried to tell him about you not being in the tomb…well, he wouldn't have even believed me. Besides, he's the one who cinched your alibi with Klaus. I guess he heard through the grapevine that Damon was trying to open the tomb for you."

"Well thanks then. I guess the extra thirty years won't make much of a difference, since you've already been lying to him for more than a century." Bonnie looked away, ashamed, but Katherine continued. "But I owe you one. Really." Bonnie shrugged off Katherine's serious tone.

"What are you going to do after the tomb is open? I don't remember Klaus being there, but he must have found out you weren't inside."

"Continue running. And I've been looking for my own descendants. It's a couple of centuries too late, but I figure if I know who they are, I'll be able to find the next doppelganger, if there ever is one, before anyone else."

"What will you do? Warn her?"

Katherine laughed, the happiest she'd looked since Bonnie had woken up in this body.

"No, I'm going to get the moonstone back from those Lockwood dogs pretty soon. Catch myself all the ingredients Klaus needs to break the curse, and hand them over, gift-wrapped. Hopefully, that will grant me enough good will that he won't kill me where I stand."

"You'd kill your descendent. When she'll be in the exact same situation as you were?"

Katherine shrugged.

"Better her than me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from: a rolling stone gathers no moss
> 
> Yes, in this fic, Katherine pitched Back to the Future to Universal. 
> 
> TW: Mention of past rape and resulting pregnancy. It is mentioned in passing in a very indifferent fashion, but if that is a concern for you, please be aware. It is part of Katherine's backstory, and is mentioned directly after Bonnie says: "I'm guessing you didn't get married to him. What happened?"


	18. those who wait

_Whatever you do in life will be insignificant,  
but it is important that you do it,  
because nobody else will.  
―Mahatma Gandhi_

Bonnie Bennett met Damon Salvatore when she was five years old. He saved her from a dog and compelled it to love her. In another life, this would be a memory that loomed large in the little girl's mind. She would go home and tell her parents about the friendly and dark-dressed man, and they would exchange concerned looks over her head. But that was never this life.

Bonnie barely remembered the rescue, because when she went back inside, her dad was pacing in the kitchen, his features drawn in worry. The wringing of his hands only stopped with the ringing of the phone. He answered, and his face went completely ashen. Bonnie watched the minute changes, and this would be her most vivid memory of the day. The moment when, without her realizing, her dad became her father, a more distant figure, not often seen or thought of.

Her father stroked one hand over her hair, before walking upstairs and packing a bag. He hugged her when he came back into the kitchen. He poured her a bowl of cereal at her request, and then he left. Bonnie wouldn't see him for two weeks. That evening she came to understand something it took other kids years to come to terms with. Her family was gone, and they were not coming back. She was alone.

Of course, none of that had happened yet, or maybe it happened over a decade ago. It depended on who you asked. The world, or the witch who was watching her younger self happily chase butterflies around the front yard.

Bonnie stood across the street from her childhood home. When her vision had started to blur in Chicago she'd thought it'd be the last time. The time between trips had been getting longer, and she thought she'd skip right past her own lifetime, and slot back into place in 2010.

She'd opened her eyes on a park bench in the Mystic Falls town square. Bonnie had almost jumped for joy, so happy to be back. But then she'd seen them, Grayson and Miranda Gilbert, outside Dr. Gilbert's medical practice. For a split second she'd allowed herself to believe that she'd managed to get home and saved her best friend's parents in the process. But she could see the small children they were buckling into their car seats, and she recognized them. Elena couldn't be older than six.

Bonnie had looked at the building, untouched by fire, and stared after the minivan that held her best friend and her still-living parents. She was closer than ever to her own present, and any ripples would, hypothetically, be more controllable. But how could she tell the Gilberts not to pick Elena up from a party in thirteen years? And what would happen to Elena if no one was there to get her? Who knew who, or what, she'd meet looking for a ride home from that party?

She'd acquired a long coat at some point. Which was good, because her dress had both smoke and water damage, and the slinky dress would have stood out in Mystic Falls even brand new. Bonnie guessed that someone, maybe even Damon, had put the trench coat on her unconscious body while she was getting drunk with Katherine, but there was nothing in the pockets to help her solve that mystery.

Bonnie felt more like an outsider here than she had in any other city or time. Everything was so close to how she remembered it, but just slightly wrong. Too new or too old or an awning a shade off from the color it would be in 2010. So Bonnie had walked the mile to her old house, hoping to find some familiarity. Instead she'd found herself.

"I brought coffee." Bonnie's head jerked up, surprised by the approaching figure.

Damon held out a cup with a familiar green logo.

"Iced. All the rage on the west coast. Might as well be a trendy stalker."

"Hope you're talking about yourself, because I'm not a stalker."

"You're standing outside of the Bennett house wearing a trench coat. I assumed you were waiting for me."

"Well, you were wrong." She replied shortly.

"So you're not here to finally keep our breakfast date. That's too bad, it's impolite to keep a lady waiting so long, Bon Bon."

"I'm sure your delicate sensibilities survived."

"Not so! You standing me up haunted me for decades. You should have seen the bender I went on; it was Stefan level stuff."

Bonnie rolled her eyes and took a sip of her coffee. It was good, and he'd somehow known her preference for a pump of hazelnut.

"Okay, maybe not Stefan level. I think you managed to miss all the times he's fallen off the wagon, lucky you. Not a pretty sight."

"And you doing your best to follow his lead is my fault, why?"

"Ouch, Bonnie, ouch. Don't you know you're supposed to be my support? Look at Lexi! She's always running after Stefan when he's in his funks, and she's even tried it with me. Oh wait, you don't even know the blonde bestie, do you? Not around enough."

Bonnie ignored him. Despite the coffee gesture, Damon was off. His words too performative, and lacking substance. She didn't want to look in his eyes and confirm what Katherine had told her even though she knew it was true. He'd turned his emotions off.

"You don't happen to know where this munchkin's mama is, do you? Sheila gave me a call and said that something was up, that her kid had bitten off more than she could chew."

"Gr—what? Sheila Bennett called you? About Abby?" He snapped his fingers.

"That's the name! I haven't been as on top of it this generation. Though really, with seatbelts and modern medicine, there's not much I have to do anymore. Unless a stray Bennett gets a bit too big for her britches that is. So, Abby? Any ideas on where she is?"

"Sheila Bennett called you for help?"

"Yes, Bonnie. Don't you remember the deal good old Emily extracted out of me? Believe me, the Bennetts haven't forgotten. They've been cashing in well enough. At least with cell phones they just call. The summonings were brutal, bad for digestion."

"Oh."

"So, Abby? I'm prompting you again because I remember you being smarter than this, despite current evidence."

Bonnie shook away her shock at Grams and Damon's apparent past friendly, or at least working, relationship.

"She's not here. She left."

"Any idea when she's coming back?"

"She doesn't. Ever. She'll send birthday cards for the next couple of years, but that's it."

"Oh-kay. That was weird and specific. But it is my job to protect the chick, so I better get some more detail from her mom. Maybe Sheila will tell me what's up, without the mystic mojo crap for once. See ya!"

"Damon, wait!"

"Bonnie, I've got stuff to do. Whatever is going on with you is not my problem anymore. I don't care. About anything. So unless you've got something to sweeten this little reunion a bit more, I've got to go."

Bonnie winced and finally met his eyes. They were cold, but not dead as she'd feared they would be.

"You need to stay. That dog will attack her. You need to be here to save her."

"Or I can just kill the dog now and leave you to deal with the crying toddler."

"Don't kill the dog, Damon. Just compel it."

"Just compel it? Do you know how annoying it is to compel animals? You have to train them to understand you first, or else the orders mean nothing. Do you know how hard it is to train something when its every instinct tells it to run away from the big bad predator giving it orders? God, I'm so glad horses are no longer a thing. I was the first in line to buy a car, believe me."

"It will work. It's a dog, not a wild animal. It will know enough for you to compel it."

Damon's further grumbling was cut off by the sharp bark of Neela. The butterfly had landed next to the dog, and the child had followed after it.

"Hold my drink." Damon dropped the cup in Bonnie's vicinity, and she just managed to catch it. He rushed off, swooping to catch little Bonnie up into his arms. The girl laughed, loving the feel of the wind in her hair. Damon rested Bonnie on one hip, and he held Neela by the neck with his other hand. He glanced back at the older Bonnie, once, and loosened his grip. He crouched, not letting go of his Bennett charge, and spoke directly into the dog's eyes.

Then he placed the girl down, observed for a few moments to make sure that the compulsion had taken, and walked away. The girl toddled after him for a moment before being distracted by the friendly dog and the butterflies again. Bonnie, the older one standing at the sidelines, crushed a piece of coffee-coated ice between her teeth.

Damon strutted back over to her.

"Nice coat, by the way. But it looked better on me."

Bonnie glanced down at the trench coat that she was swimming in. She didn't doubt it.

"Thanks for the loan. You want it back?"

He shook his head.

"Nah, a few seasons out of date for me now."

Bonnie nodded, and handed his coffee back to him. Across the way, her younger self ran back inside, hungry and looking for her father. Bonnie watched the door slam shut behind her. She waited for the phone to start ringing.

"You just going to stand there? Because I'm leaving. People to do, places to see and all that."

"Her grandmother will be here soon; you don't have to go looking for her."

"You alright, Bonnie? You don't look so good. And how do you know so much anyway? Did I give you a play by play of today at some point in the future?"

The phone rang, and Bonnie's dad picked it up. Bonnie wished she could hear the conversation. She couldn't remember what her mother's voice sounded like. Damon cocked his head, listening.

Whatever he heard made him turn away from Bonnie and take a step closer to the house.

"What's she saying?" Damon glanced back at her.

"It's Abby. She said there's something she has to do. To protect the town and her daughter." He paused. "And that she might not be coming back."

Bonnie looked at the closed door of her house. She knew that Abby wouldn't be coming back. For years she had wondered why her mother had left, what she could have done differently, what sort of daughter she should have been to make her stay.

Her father burst out the front door, bag in hand. He threw it in the backseat and drove off, not even sparing a glance at the vampire and his grown daughter that stood witness. Grams would be here soon.

"What did she say she was protecting the town from?" Bonnie asked.

Damon shrugged and slurped at his coffee obnoxiously.

"Didn't say. Sounds witchy to me, uncontrollable evil, blah blah; don't know what Sheila wants me to do about it."

Bonnie frowned. Could her mother really have left the town to protect it? Bonnie remembered her vow to Stefan, that she would protect the town from him and Damon. She'd been eager to leave the promise behind when she tried to change the past. But now she considered the weight of it. Maybe her mother had made a similar promise and found herself losing her family because of it. Was that possible? That Abby Bennett had left her out of love and not selfishness?

"Where is she? She should be here by now." Bonnie was speaking to herself, but Damon answered anyway.

"Sheila? You're the one who was insistent that she was showing up, why're you asking me? But it does seem wrong that he left the little tyke alone without at least calling a sitter."

"He called Grams."

"The grandmother? Sheila? No, he didn't. I was listening the whole time."

Bonnie stared at the house for a moment. She'd grown up in this house, still slept beneath its roof every night when she couldn't escape its emptiness for the warmth of Caroline's and Elena's. This house was just as off as the rest of the town. The front garden was overflowing with well kept tulips, the shutters were all recently painted, the grass freshly mowed. A house is not a home, but this one was, until just this moment. It just didn't realize it wasn't anymore. Soon the outside would reflect the inside. The garden would empty, the shutters fade, and the grass would grow mostly untended, like the daughter inside.

Bonnie started to laugh with an edge of hysteria. She ignored Damon's looks, didn't check if they were concerned or judgmental. She laughed and laughed until her face ached like her heart. Because of course. Her entire life she'd believed that her father had called Grams. That even in his grief over his wife he had remembered his daughter and made sure that she would be cared for. That, in a way, he was a part of their family unit because he had set it up, in this moment. He had made sure that she and Grams would have each other, even if Abby never came back and he never stayed in town for more than two weeks at a time. But he hadn't.

Damon finally lay a hand on her back. Bonnie didn't know if it was actually meant to be soothing, but it did the trick. It grounded her, brought her back to herself. Her laughter slowed, and she only choked on a few snorts-turned-sobs before she completely sobered. If Rudy wasn't going to call, she'd have to do it herself.

Bonnie ducked from under Damon's hand and marched across the street and over the lawn. She stooped to grab the spare key from beneath the loose stone in the walkway, but found out it was an unnecessary step. When she got to the door it was already unlocked. She restrained herself and didn't punch the door frame like she wanted to.

"Bonnie, wait! I can't come in!"

Bonnie ignored Damon's calls after her and entered the house. She shut the door behind her, quietly, and bypassed the living room where she could hear the television. The kitchen was quiet, Ms. Cuddles lay, fallen over on her side, on one of the kitchen chairs. Bonnie set the bear upright again, rubbing one of her ears between her fingers. She placed her empty cereal bowl in the sink, took a deep breath, and picked the phone off the wall.

The number had been the same her whole life, and her memory didn't fail her now. Grams' voice sounded tinny through the old phone, but Bonnie still had to suppress tears.

"Hello? Rudy?" Grams said. Bonnie gathered herself.

"Hi. Sheila Bennett? Your granddaughter needs you right now. Her father just left in a hurry. He asked me to call you."

"Who is this? Where's Rudy? Is Bonnie okay? Put her on the phone!" Bonnie heard Damon calling for her from the front door, but she ignored him.

"I'm nobody important, and Bonnie is watching television. She's fine. But I really think you should come over." Bonnie couldn't exactly give her name, and she struggled to find something to say, something that would allay some of Grams' concerns, something that would make her grandmother speak to her. Maybe a familiar name? "Damon Salvatore is here too." Bonnie immediately knew this was the wrong thing to say.

"I'm on my way." The line went dead.

Bonnie held the phone to her ear for a moment, prolonging it as long as possible, ignoring the sound of the television in the next room. It had been so good to hear Grams's voice again. When Bonnie placed the phone back on the hook she realized that the voices she's been tuning out weren't coming from the television in the living room. They were coming from the hall.

"Well if you tell me your name, we won't be strangers. Then you can invite me in no problem."

"Mr. Damon what'dya mean? You know my name! You called me!" said Bonnie Bennett in her squeaky voice.

"Well I'm glad you came to the door, but I was calling for my friend."

"No! For me! You say Bonnie! Bonnie! Come to the door! And I did!" The little girl insisted. Bonnie rounded the corner just as Damon looked up from where he crouched in front of the child. He met Bonnie's horrified eyes over the excited girl's head.

"Bonnie Bennett?" He asked, tone measured.

"That's me! That's me!" The girl cried. Bonnie's throat was tight. Damon's smile took on a sinister air.

"Well Baby Bonnie, now that we're friends you can invite me in right?"

"Sure Mister! Co—" Bonnie sprinted down the hall and slapped her hand over her younger self's mouth. Damon could not have an invitation into her home, especially not now, when he had his humanity turned off.

"Aw Bonnie? Don't want me inside the house?" He ran his hands over the door frame. "I don't need the kid though, do I? I think if you invited me in, this barrier would fall. Because this is your house too, isn't it, Bonnie Bennett?"

Bonnie shivered but didn't look away. His eyes were like ice. She gently released her fingers from over the young Bonnie's mouth.

"Go back to the living room, Grams will be here soon." The girl scampered off. Bonnie didn't know if her younger self was stupidly trustful of strangers, or if the touch had let her know that Bonnie was family, was her. Probably a bit of both.

"Well, well, well. Look who's been keeping secrets. All these years, Bonnie, and I never realized how similar you and Emily were. Bennett cunning at its finest. What was this? Were you supposed to check up on me to make sure I kept my end of the bargain?"

"No! That wasn't why, it wasn't about you at all."

"Well that's good to hear, makes me feel all better. Why don't you invite me in, and we can talk about this without this pesky barrier between us?" Damon had his hands braced against both sides of the door frame, and he was leaning in to loom over her despite the distance between them.

Bonnie stepped over the threshold and into him, lifting her chin. She would not let this lesser version of her friend intimidate her. Not when she'd come this far.

"Oh stop lifting your chin. It doesn't make you look taller; it just makes you look like an overconfident chihuahua."

"You wanted to talk face to face. Here I am. Talk."

Damon loomed even closer.

"I met you a hundred years ago Bonnie, and all my life I've thought of you as my friend. But I've never really known you at all, have I?" His voice sounded almost sad, even though that shouldn't be possible in his current state.

"Damon, I…" Her hard stance was crumbling. Damon reached forward and ran his ring finger down the side of her face, racing the curve of her cheekbone. His finger only held his daylight ring. Bonnie had never claimed him in return.. Not, she thought, that he would be wearing it now if she had. She could see something in his eyes, a hint emotion. Betrayal, but also a softening. She had to talk to him, to explain herself, and get him to flip his humanity switch back on.

A car squealed into the driveway and Damon snatched his hand back. His face closed, and his eyes went cold and dead. Grams leapt from her car, not bothering to close her door behind her.

"Damon! Did you find Abby? Is she alright? Why are you here? Is Bonnie alright? Who are you?' Her questions were sharp and frantic, but Damon answered completely nonplussed.

"Calm down Sheila, we're having a moment here."

Gram has reached the porch and looked at the two figures standing inches apart.

"Damon, you're supposed to be protecting my daughter. If you didn't bring this witch here to help you, why are you wasting time with her?"

"A question I'm asking myself at this very moment Sheila."

Bonnie met her Grams' eyes, and couldn't suppress her tears. She angrily wiped them away, she didn't want anything blurring her vision. Grams's eyes widened, taking in the familiar face before her. It lacked the baby fat she was accustomed to, but the features were undeniable.

"Bonnie?" The word was breathed out, rife with disbelief. Bonnie nodded sniffling.

"It's me Grams. It's me." She let the tears welling in her eyes escape and rushed into her grandmother's arms. The arms around her were hesitant, but just as comforting as she remembered.

"But Bonnie, baby, how?" Bonnie pulled away from her embrace. She took a step back but still struggled to answer. How could she explain?

"She's just popping in for a visit. Don't worry, she'll be gone soon enough." Damon said.

Bonnie had backed away from Grams, but she hadn't realized how close she now stood to Damon until he spoke, his voice just over her shoulder. She'd retreated to the familiar, and now with everything that she'd been through, Damon was more familiar than Grams.

"Not helpful, Damon." Bonnie turned to glare, but Damon remained glib.

"You weren't offering up any answers, Bonnie."

"Never mind that. Is Abby okay?" Grams interrupted.

"Don't know. Got here and saved Baby Bonnie, so I think my job is done."

"Done? My daughter is in danger because of one of your kind is trying to kill a child! You have to go and help!"

"I'm not about to tangle with a vampire over something that has nothing to do with me. Besides, I have it on good authority that your dear Abby survives, and it looks like Bonnie will make it out fine without me for the next few years."

"Damon, I know you've helped our family in the past, but if you don't help my daughter today I will never forget it, and I will never forgive you. No Bennett will welcome your presence again"

"I think you'll find them more than welcoming, Sheila. Accommodating to the extreme" He said before he grabbed Bonnie and pressed a hard kiss to her mouth. Bonnie was so startled she completely froze.

This was different from all of their previous kisses. It was ugly, aimed to hurt, and it made Bonnie burn with shame. Not only that Grams was seeing Damon kiss her, but was seeing him kiss her like this, in anger, just using her for a point. She pushed him away, pushing heat and force through her hands.

"Get off me!" She said. The cruel twist of his mouth remained undiminished and he was breathing harshly.

"Not so willing now that you have to own up to your family, huh? Slumming it with the likes of me?"

"Not so willing now that you're being a jackass!"

"This is who I always was Bonnie, no use pretending otherwise since your mask is off too."

Bonnie looked down. A last name was hardly a mask, but her name was not the only thing she'd lied about. She wiped her lips. The kiss had lasted seconds, but she wanted to cry. This isn't who Damon always was. Without his emotions he was someone different, something different.

"Damon. My daughter." Grams said. Damon didn't look away from Bonnie, but he scoffed.

"You know what? I promised to protect her descendants, not chase after them when I'm not wanted. Your family can deal with their own problems." He blurred away.

Bonnie heard a loud engine turn over a few blocks away. Damon was consistent with his love of muscle cars.

Bonnie felt bereft. Her dead grandmother stood in front of her, her past self was inside watching cartoons, and the one constant she'd had throughout this entire century and a half long disaster had just abandoned her. She'd tried to prepare herself, create a distance, but it hadn't worked out as she planned. Her heart ached.

"Come on, baby. Let's get you inside." Bonnie let Grams lead her through the doorway again, and into the kitchen. She put the kettle on before leaving Bonnie for a moment, presumably to check on the younger Bonnie.

Bonnie remembered this from her own childhood. Grams's steady presence bustling around the house talking to herself while Bonnie sat in the living room. She'd been so grateful that her grandmother had left her alone to process in private. Her grief had felt too big for her small body, but she didn't want to share it until she understood it. Later, she would fall asleep crying in her grandmother's warm embrace, but the first few hours of quiet contemplation had always been a blessing.

Grams was back in the kitchen soon enough, pouring each of them a cup. After the tea had steeped for a minute, she took a bottle from the top cabinet and poured more than a dash of rum into her own cup. She glanced back at Bonnie.

"You old enough to drink yet?" Bonnie mutely shook her head. Grams gave her a hard look. "You look like you need it." And she poured a very small amount into Bonnie's tea. She set both mugs on the table and sat across from Bonnie.

"Now, why don't you tell me what's going on. First, what you know about where your mom is. Then we can tackle whatever situation you've gotten yourself into."

"I don't really know anything about where Abby is. I haven't seen her in years. She never came home after this."

"Never came home? Damon said she was safe!"

"Well, she is, I think. I haven't really heard anything in a few years. She's not hurt from today though, not that I know of. I saw her a few times since she left, we did Christmas a couple of times when she was living in Savannah." Bonnie said glumly. She didn't have many memories of her mother that she could offer up to her grandmother. She didn't really know Abby.

Grams took a deep sip from her mug.

"I just don't understand. She left Mystic Falls to draw him away, but she would have died if she failed, and if she succeeded there's no reason not to come back."

"Draw who away? Neither of you ever said anything about any danger."

"A few weeks ago a vampire came to town. He was asking questions about a little girl in your kindergarten class. Her mother is a good friend of Abby's, Miranda Gilbert."

"Elena? A vampire was asking about Elena? She's five years old." Grams nodded. Bonnie felt a chill. Was it Klaus? Already? She thought she would have time to warn the others, to warn her friend, before Klaus or Katherine came, or anyone else in Mystic Falls ever heard the word doppelganger. How had he found Elena so soon? She didn't look like Katherine at all yet!

"She is. But this vampire was something different. He's older than any other I've met, and he could do things I've never seen. Grayson shot him with a stake, straight through the heart, but it didn't kill him. He had vampires compelled to do his bidding, against their will, and he drank from them." Grams shivered. Vampires were unnatural, an imbalance in nature, but this vampire was a greater aberration than most. To drink from others, just for food? And to compel another vampire? Bonnie had never heard of anything like that.

"How is that possible? Did a witch somehow protect him from a stake? Give him extra powers?"

"No, Bonnie. This isn't an extra charm or spell. He is the original vampire."

"What?"

"He called himself Mikael and claimed that he was trying to rid the world of a greater threat than even him. A vampire that has the potential to be a werewolf as well, a hybrid."

"Is that possible?" Bonnie asked. It seemed to be the question of the day. Bonnie cursed herself, for the thousandth time, for not reading the books in Grams's occult library more thoroughly.

"I'd never heard of such a thing, and werewolves are almost extinct besides, but he claimed the creature was his son."

"But what does Elena have to do with any of this?"

"Your friend Elena is part of the supernatural world. She isn't a witch, but something of a magical vessel. She is a doppelganger. According to Mikael, another doppelganger of her line was used to lock his son's werewolf side within. But he's hunting for her, and as long as Elena is alive, and her line continues, there is a chance for his son to find her and use her to unlock his curse."

"He has to sacrifice Elena?" It must be Klaus. Katherine had told her that he was trying to break a curse with the sacrifice of a doppelganger, and Bonnie remembered the rune he'd stood over in that vile cellar. The rune for union. She'd thought he was trying to unlock further powers, to combine his own with the witches he'd killed, but he must have been trying to unlock his own werewolf capabilities.

"He needs her blood to complete the transition. The doppelganger locks his curse away, but also that of every potential hybrid. If he gets his hands on her, he could create an entire new race of monster with her blood."

"Why did Mikael tell you all of this? Do you believe him? I only just learned werewolves are real, to find out that hybrids are possible is a little shocking."

"He was trying to convince the Gilberts to hand Elena over. He knew that they hunted vampires, and he tried to appeal to their sense of the greater good. But they refused."

"Why didn't he just take her?"

"He hasn't been invited in. And the Gilberts are very good at protecting their daughter, and better at knowing when to ask for help. Lucrezia Salvatore provided enough vervain to down an army of vampires, and Abby and I spelled the house so that Mikael couldn't burn it down around them."

"But where is Abby now?"

"Mikael wouldn't give up. He's been waiting for a millennium to kill his son, and a few hunters and witches with a bag of tricks wouldn't deter him. So, we came up with a plan. Abby is far more powerful than me, and she's been the only one who could take him on, even if only for a short time."

"My mother is a witch? A powerful one?"

"Yes. She's the most powerful Bennett for generations."

"She never mentioned magic to me."

"I'm sure there's a reason baby." Grams said, but she looked worried.

"Maybe. So, Abby is going to take on Mikael?"

"Yes, we found a spell that should subdue him. Immediate desiccation. It draws all of the blood from his veins and will immobilize him. There's an old Sommers tomb a little ways to the south, in North Carolina, that we've sealed using an old spell of Emily's. Should keep him under for at least a hundred years, long past when Elena has to worry about him. Abby left last night, with a charmed dummy Elena. Mikael followed"

"Will Abby be able to do it?"

"Abby would do anything for her friends, especially Miranda. But Mikael threatened you too Bonnie. I have no doubt that Abby will do whatever it takes to rid us of Mikael, even if it means she goes down with him."

"But she called Dad and said she wasn't coming home."

"That's another thing that's odd. The Gilberts were supposed to be her first contact unless something went very wrong. They stayed the night in Grayson's office so that no one watching the house would see that Elena was still here in town. Abby should have called them to tell them if it was safe to leave."

"They left. I saw them going home earlier today. She must have called them first."

"That means she's safe!" Grams exuberance contrasted sharply with Bonnie's own depressed tone. Even if her mother had apparently left for a good reason, Bonnie couldn't erase the years of hurt that her mother's absence had dealt.

"Don't look so glum, Bonnie. We'll figure this out. Though it's a relief you've never heard of Mikael, your mother locked him up tight enough that you don't even know he exists."

"I think I would have preferred honesty."

"Hmm. It seems that we could have given you a few more lessons in magic at least. You didn't mean to come here at all, is that right? Why don't you tell me what happened."

"I was stupid. I didn't know what I was doing, and I messed up a spell."

"You shouldn't dabble in magic you don't understand Bonnie, I hope I teach you better than that."

"I don't understand any of it! Not really. Better than I did before at least. But I don't have any teacher. Not anymore. You're gone, Mom left, and Emily taught me what she could, but I barely got any time with her. Dad doesn't get it at all. How am I supposed to understand anything?" Bonnie took a big sip, trying to soothe herself with the warmth of the tea and the rum, and the familiar sight and scent of her grandmother in front of her.

Grams reached out and grasped Bonnie's hand in hers.

"Oh baby, I'm so sorry. I never wanted to leave you when you're so young."

"It's my fault! I made you do the spell and now you're gone!" Bonnie's sobs made her words hard to understand, but Grams seemed to grasp the gist of it, because she left her own seat to wrap her arms around Bonnie.

"Shh, shh, baby girl, no. Nothing is your fault. Shh."

"You don't know! You didn't want to do it, but Damon and Stefan and Elena! I needed to save them, and I made you! I'd barely lit a candle before that; I couldn't take on my fair share. I basically killed you myself."

"Bonnie! You listen to me. I am a grown woman, and I make my own choices. You couldn't make me do anything if you wanted to. Give me the respect of trusting that I can make decisions for myself. I don't know what you asked me to do, but I promise that I knew the consequences when I did it."

Bonnie's sobs quieted but didn't lessen. Her body shook from the force of them and Grams kept a vice like grip around her.

"But Grams! You're gone! Dead!"

"Bonnie, do you know where our magic comes from?"

Bonnie remembered Emily's earliest lessons.

"Nature?"

"Yes, and our connection to it through those we love. A witch is a conduit to Nature, energy made manifest. When we die, we do not simply disappear. Our spirits continue to strengthen Nature, and the witches we leave behind. Know that even after I am gone, I am still with you. Every time you light a candle I am smiling next to you, and every time you cast a spell in defense of yourself I am there, standing behind you."

"How can you say that Grams? When you saw how Damon was? And that I saved his life over yours?"

"Bonnie, my sweet granddaughter. I've known you since the moment I first held you in my arms. I'll admit, it's shocking to see you as you are now, a young woman so grown up before me, but that doesn't mean you are suddenly a stranger. You didn't trade my life for Damon's, we saved your friends. And that's something I don't want you to ever regret."

"Even if they're vampires?" Bonnie asked quietly, twisting the ring around her finger. Grams glanced down at Bonnie's hands, but didn't comment.

"Even if they're vampires." She gave a sharp look, "Now I hope you keep some human friends around, and you could do with another witch to help out with heavy spell casting. But if these vampires make you happy, then I am happy."

"What if they don't? Make me happy I mean."

"Then you should leave Bonnie. But make sure that whatever your choice, whether it be to stay or leave, you are making it for the you of the present. You, not the judgement you think I or your parents would have on your choices, and the present, not some past or some ideal morality you wish you could fully believe."

"Any other pearls of wisdom you want to leave me with?"

"Just one. Remember that I love you, and I always will."

Tears flooded Bonnie's eyes and she threw herself into her grandmother's arms again. She got one last hug, a minute-long tight squeeze full of love and devotion, before she felt the bloodstone burn against her skin.

It was the shortest trip yet, and Bonnie knew, the last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title from: good things come to those who wait
> 
> My new method of editing fic includes using Word's "read aloud" feature. If I can't hear the emotion through Microsoft David's monotone I need a) more commas and b) more angst. Also great because the program pronounces it "Salvatore-y"


	19. unring a bell

_No man ever steps in the same river twice,  
for it is not the same river  
and he is not the same man.  
—Heraclitus_

Bonnie woke up with dirt in her mouth. She was lying face down in the center of a circle. Bonnie recognized it as the one she'd drawn to cast the initial time spell. It hadn't been disturbed, by wind, leaves, or animals. The water dish remained full, none of its contents evaporated. Bonnie flipped herself over. She'd half expected Damon's anxious face to be leaning over her, in either modern or antebellum dress, but he wasn't. She was alone.

A bird call echoed through the trees as Bonnie stared at the sky above her. She'd never learned how to tell time by the sun, a skill Damon and Stefan were adept at in 1864, but it was easy to tell it was early morning. The light filtering through the forest canopy was thin and weak, the light of a barely risen sun. Bonnie blinked. She'd left 2010 just as the sun was hinting over the horizon. Was it possible she'd found herself back at nearly the same moment? She had been gone for over a month by her own estimate. Could she really have lived that all in just a moment in the timeline?

Bonnie lifted herself from the ground and stumbled her way towards the road, gaining stability with each step. She spat repeatedly in an effort to rid her mouth of the taste of the forest floor. Her Prius was waiting for her, parked in the shoulder of the road, just where she'd left it. Bonnie threw herself into the driver's seat and actually teared up at the sight of her key, still in the cupholder. She kicked off her soiled shoes and tossed Damon's coat aside. She checked the road, once, furtively, before ripping into her cheer practice bag that sat in the backseat. Slipping into the worn-out athletic shorts and t-shirt was a relief.

After taking a minute to refamiliarize herself with her car, Bonnie shifted it into gear and started on the drive back into town. Bonnie barely pressed on the gas pedal, and the car rolled slowly. It was good that there was no one on the road with her, because they would definitely have been annoyed by her hesitance. But she didn't quite trust herself behind the wheel yet. Driving a car was like riding a bike, a hard skill to just forget, but the power and speed held in modern machinery would take her more than a single shaky minute to get used to again.

She gradually sped up to a more normal speed, eyes locked on the empty road. Gaining confidence, she allowed her mind to drift, just slightly. Bonnie thought about the untouched circle, the full bowl, the scent of freshly burnt incense still on the wind. She reached out one hand to absentmindedly stroke the fabric of her discarded dress. It was so smooth. She glanced down. Even dirty and damaged, the pool of silk shown iridescently. Like a puddle of crude oil.

Her moment of distraction was brief, but in it the car had drifted toward the shoulder of the road. She jerked, torn from her reverie by the loud and harsh cry of a crow nearby, and slammed on the breaks.

Bonnie rested her forehead on the steering wheel in front of her and forced herself to take ten deep breaths. With her heart rate steadier, she straightened again.

Her ring caught her eye from where her hands were clasped tightly around the wheel. Should she take it off? Damon surely wouldn't want her wearing it, not now. Not after what he'd discovered, and what he'd said.

Bonnie didn't take it off.

She stepped on the gas and drove towards her house.

It looked exactly how she remembered it in her own time, but the differences between the house now and the recent memory of the home from her childhood were glaring.

The technology of the 21st century was not the only thing she would have to get used to. But would it all be things she'd once known as well the back of her hand? Would anything be different?

Again, the empty spell circle came to her mind. It was followed by the image of the sun, barely risen in the sky, and her car, easily waiting for her on the side of the road where she'd parked it. If everything was exactly how she'd left it, did that mean nothing had changed? Nothing at all?

Bonnie shifted into reverse and drove to her Grams's house.

She knew without getting out of the car that this, at least, had remained the same. The windows were shuttered and dark, and Grams's beat up hatchback was parked neatly in the driveway, her father's work, instead of precariously far from the curb like Grams had always left it.

Bonnie looked up at the darkened windows of the empty house and allowed herself to accept the idea that had begun to itch at the back of her mind as she sat in the kitchen with her grandmother.

Why would Stefan ever have been at Wickery Bridge last May, if she hadn't asked him to meet her there? There was nothing to see there, and it was nowhere near the Boarding House. He wouldn't even have been in Mystic Falls; he'd been in Virginia too recently. There was the possibility of someone recognizing him.

Why would Grams hate a vampire sworn to protect their line, if she hadn't met him before? Hadn't seen his disagreement with Bonnie? Would he have abandoned Abby in her time of need if Bonnie hadn't told him that her mother would be fine in the end? Or if he wasn't feeling the betrayal of Bonnie's revealed identity?

Why had Damon avoided her so often, here in the 21st century? He could have talked to her, made nice with her and told her about his role in her family history, but instead he'd avoided her, avoided even meeting her eyes, unless he was trying to get her to hand over the necklace. Except sometimes, he snarked, like he'd forgotten they didn't have an easy friendship full of teasing to fall back on. Bonnie thought of the way he'd flipped on a dime and trusted her with his life, even though she hadn't really done anything to prove her power or her sincerity. Not the behavior of a casual acquaintance.

No one else ever warned Katherine and Pearl, it had only been her. Without her there, they both would have been locked away in the tomb, and Pearl wouldn't have had time to steal the Gilbert Device. If she'd told Damon the truth later, that Katherine wasn't in the tomb, he never would have returned to Mystic Falls to release the tomb vampires, and the Council would never have activated the Device. No Device, no car crash, no guilt-ridden Bonnie desperate enough to attempt going back in time.

Bonnie hadn't changed the past; she'd ensured the present.

In the moment she cast the time spell, Bonnie had hated her life so much that she'd wanted to change it, but all she'd managed to do was fool herself. She was back just where she'd started.

Part of Bonnie was profoundly grateful; she wasn't cast adrift in an unfamiliar universe. For the most part, she'd ignored her fears of a different future. But every so often she'd felt the terror of it yawn out in front of her as a dark abyss. She'd imagined arriving to find Mystic Falls gone, Bonnie and her friends never born, vampires and witches revealed to the world and hunted.

Knowing that she hadn't brought about the end of the world, or even just a slightly more unpleasant version of it, was a relief. Returning to her life, with the magic she'd discovered, the friendships she'd forged, and the lessons she'd learned was really the best possible outcome. Really.

But another part of Bonnie, equal to the part filled with gratitude, had fallen into despair. Because in her own mind, although barely consciously aware of it herself, she'd been countering visions of that nightmarish future with daydreams of another future, a kinder one. She'd spun a fantasy for herself where her Grams was alive, the town peaceful, her friends safe. Bonnie had imagined herself happy and, despite her own actions to prevent it, she'd imagined Damon by her side.

The ridiculous trip she'd just taken should have brought her closure and cured her of all her doubts. But it hadn't. Because everything that was wrong with the world she'd left was still just as it was.

Only Bonnie was different. Bonnie had found family, and magic, and feelings she'd never imagined. But—

She'd changed her mind about Damon, about all vampires. But if nothing was different, if she hadn't actually changed anything, it meant that Damon had known her the whole time. Known her, seen Elena, and discarded Bonnie. It was a stupid thing to focus on, but it pricked at Bonnie's mind regardless. Her grandmother was still gone, her parents still absent, and now her heart was lost too.

Bonnie hit the steering wheel in frustration, accidentally honking the horn. The sound rent through the empty air. Bonnie wanted to scream just as loudly. Scream so that someone would know she was here, she was back, and that her heart was tearing itself open in her chest for all the chances she hadn't allowed herself to take, and that she'd never really had.

But she didn't scream. Instead she wiped her eyes and kept her cracked heart tucked away inside of her, hidden. She'd known this was coming after all, that's why she'd prepared herself for it. Besides, Bonnie was used to being alone. Another empty space shouldn't be hard to fit in next to all the others in her life.

Bonnie took one last look at Grams's house. She'd promised herself, and Emily, that she would look into her grandmother's library. How many times on her trip had she scolded herself for not studying more carefully? Now that it was within reach, she knew she couldn't go into the house, not yet. Not when the whole home would be infused with Grams's absence; not when she could still so clearly picture Grams alive and sipping spiked tea across a kitchen table from her. But maybe tomorrow. Maybe.

Bonnie turned away and drove back to her own empty house.

* * *

Bonnie sighed as the hot water beat over her shoulders. Weeks without a shower, and days with only stolen moments of furtively scrubbing herself down between travel and tragedy, made the flowing water feel like heaven. She almost teared up at the smell of her shampoo when she popped the cap. It was an extremely artificial apple scent, and undeniably of the 21st century.

Bonnie picked up the deep conditioning serum. She really should put it in now, but she also didn't have the time to spare. She needed to get to the hospital to check on Caroline. Her shower, no matter how necessary, would have to be quick. Tomorrow, she told herself putting the bottle down, with an additional promise to carefully moisturize her curls.

Hair was the least of her worries. Klaus was coming, and he was apparently the son of the original vampire, and a potential hybrid besides. Bonnie had to check that Mikael was still in his own tomb, that Klaus hadn't set up spies around town before the comet, and that Katherine wasn't about to sweep into town to sacrifice Elena on her own altar. Bonnie made a note to convince Elena to delete all of her social media. Her friend hadn't been active since her parents died, but it would be better to scrub the Petrova face from the internet.

After stepping from the shower, Bonnie found herself caught in a stare down with her own reflection. She felt older, like she'd experienced a lifetime in her short stint in the past, but she still looked like the teenager she was. Except for one thing. She lifted her left hand, and watched as her mirror image do the same. Without looking down, she slipped the ring from her finger, and placed it on the sink's edge. Now she looked the same as how she left, no matter how she felt inside.

The ring stayed there, balanced on the curved surface, as she dressed, and then dried and combed her hair. It gleamed elegantly, a point of calm amongst the chaos, out of place in her bathroom filled with discarded haircare bottles and half-destroyed makeup palettes. Bonnie almost left it there, but the possibility of it being swept up with the rest of the mess in a fit of cleaning, or worse, knocked down the drain with an accidental brush of an arm or towel, forced her to pick it up again. She found a small bowl, placed the ring inside, and tucked the last memento of her and Damon inside her bedside table's drawer.

On her bed was the purse Damon had bought her in 1942. The only surviving souvenirs of her trip were dumped out beside it. The bloodstone, her grandfather's necklace, and two elastic hairbands. She'd travelled light.

The sliver of bloodstone that was left, a startlingly small piece when one thought of the hunk of stone she'd brought with her to 1864, didn't pulse with life as it once had. No longer connected to the tomb, and thoroughly tapped out from her time travel, the stone wasn't a magical conductor anymore. Still, Bonnie could feel the traces of her journey along the fault lines in the stone. As if time left a little piece of itself, a shadow of a signature, behind as it had passed through the bloodstone.

Bonnie remembered her Grams's long ago advice; that Bonnie would know the right gemstone to take as her talisman when it found her. She'd doubted her then, but her grandmother had been right. She knew. Bonnie pressed the stone to the depression in her grandfather's necklace. They fit perfectly, as if the gold medallion had been crafted to hold the stone.

Bonnie had learned multiple sticking spells, to hitch, to bind, to glue, while in 1864, but all of them had failed her when she was imprisoned by Klaus. A sticking spell that could be undone wouldn't do. She couldn't lose this stone. Instead, Bonnie called heat to her hand, until her fingers were as hot as the bloodstone as it had pulled her decades forward in time, and squeezed the metal around the stone, molding it snugly together. Now, they could never part. With a nod of satisfaction, Bonnie clasped the chain around her neck, and slipped the stone beneath her collar. She wanted to feel the metal cool against her chest.

* * *

The hospital was brighter than Bonnie remembered, but she didn't know if that was because of the morning sun, or the distance she felt from her earlier guilt. Sitting in the waiting room with Matt that night, knowing she caused their accident, even if indirectly, had been the worst she'd felt since the night her Grams had died.

The guilt had eaten at her, driving her out of her mind, until she'd been pushed to take drastic measures. For Bonnie now though, the accident had happened over a month ago, even if it had only been a few hours for Caroline. Her best friend was still fighting for her life, and Bonnie was no more able to heal her now than she had been the last time she'd been in this waiting room.

"Matt? You're still here?" Bonnie said.

"Yeah. My shift starts in half an hour, but I didn't want to leave her alone."

Bonnie nodded, even though she could clearly see Sheriff Forbes standing near the nurse's station down the hall. Matt and Bonnie knew the Sheriff was a better mother than either of theirs, but they'd also heard how emotionally distant she was with Caroline, and how she prioritized work over her daughter. Even now, she was speaking with a deputy, and the doctors were nodding to Matt as the authority on Caroline's care. The parents in this town had a lot to answer for.

"Elena should be on her way too. She said she'd be here first thing in the morning when I talked to her yesterday." Or at least she thought that was what Elena had texted that night. She couldn't exactly check her messages, since she'd left her cell phone at the Salvatore's in 1864. Bonnie added that to her mental to do list, at the top. Mikael and Klaus could wait a day, getting a new cell phone could not.

"She's here already, down a floor I think. With her uncle."

"Her Uncle John? What's going on? Did something happen to Jenna? Or Jeremy?" Bonnie wouldn't spend time with her biological father willingly.

Matt just shrugged.

"I don't know. She isn't answering my texts. No one is."

"I'm having a bit of a phone problem at the moment, but I'm here now. You don't have to worry."

"Bonnie, how can I not be worried? Caroline was fine, and then the next second she wasn't. Now she's going into surgery again in a few hours and the doctors don't think she's going to make it. Plus, Tyler's disappeared. No one knows where he went after hearing about his dad. And I can't even be there for either of them, because my shift starts in twenty minutes and I can't miss it if I want to make rent this month."

Matt stared down at his hands, one covered in a plaster cast, with a defeated look on his face. Bonnie carefully did not ask if his boss at the Grill knew about the broken wrist.

"Hey, Matt. It's going to be okay."

"What am I going to do, Bonnie? This is all my fault."

"What? Matt, no. This is not your fault. Not at all."

"It is though, if I wasn't…" He trailed off, but Bonnie didn't speak. He just needed a second to gather himself.

"I was going to break up with her. It isn't working for me. But every time I was about to do it, Caroline would just be trying so hard. And I liked that, how much she wanted us to work, how much she wanted me, even though it wasn't good for either of us. But with Vicki gone, and Elena and I over, and my mom…I just didn't want to be alone."

Bonnie didn't know what to say. Why were her friends always sharing their problems with her like this? Did they really like the advice she gave? Bonnie didn't think it was ever that groundbreaking, but she couldn't just leave him hanging.

"There's no use feeling guilty about that now, it's in the past, and there is nothing you can do now to change it." She should know. "But when she wakes up, and Matt she will, you should think about what you just said. You owe Caroline your honesty and your effort. It's not healthy to live in denial this way, and Caroline deserves someone who wants to give her the world."

Matt nodded.

"And Matt, you know that if you ever need to you can stay with me for a while, right? I've got plenty of space."

"You think your dad would be okay with that?"

"As if he's around enough to notice." Matt gave her a deadpan look. Despite his effort, it was actually the happiest he'd appeared since Bonnie arrived. "But if you're too scared of my dad, you could always ask Tyler."

"Maybe, I guess I should at least talk to him when he comes back. But I can't give up the house; my mom needs somewhere to crash when she's back in town. That definitely can't be the Lockwoods."

Bonnie winced, remembering the very public kiss between Tyler and Kelly Donovan. How had she forgotten about that?

"Okay, but still. If you need anything…"

"Thanks, Bonnie. And you too, you know. You're always taking care of us, let us return the favor sometime. We're here." He glanced at the clock mounted on the wall and stood. "Well, here in general, you know, emotionally, because I can't actually be here right now. I have to get to the Grill." He looked worried about cutting off a touching moment, but Bonnie laughed.

"Go! I'll be here for Caroline, and I'll steal a nurse's phone to call you if anything happens. Now get to work!"

He waved as he jogged down the hallway.

Bonnie turned to look in the window of Caroline's hospital room. The shades were only partially drawn, so she could see the still form of her friend's body on the hospital bed. Bonnie no longer felt an all-consuming panic at the sight. She still had no way to cure Caroline, and she still felt responsible for her current state. But now she was different. Now she was willing to ask for help.

A woman strode past her, and Bonnie caught her reflection in the glare off Caroline's window.

"Jenna?" Elena's aunt turned to her, harried and still dressed in last night's clothes. "Have you seen Elena or Damon?" Jenna's face soured at Bonnie's question, her lips twisted in disgust and eyes steely.

"So, you knew, then? I guess I can't expect her to confide everything in me, but it would have been nice to know before I found them kissing on my own front porch."

"What?" Bonnie's mind helpfully conjured the image before her eyes. Damon and Elena, kissing. It was easy to picture. Elena looked so similar to Katherine, and Bonnie had caught Katherine and Damon together a number of times early on in her time in 1864.

"Oh. You didn't know?"

"No, I mean, yes. I kind of knew, but I didn't know they were doing that…in the open." Bonnie answered. Her chest felt tight. She'd thought Elena would hold out longer. But Bonnie knew, better than most, how easy it was to fall into Damon's arms.

"Well you're warned now. I couldn't have imagined a bigger shock after that, but then with John…"

"Uncle John? What about him?" Bonnie asked, remembering Matt's answer on Elena's whereabouts.

"Hasn't Elena called you? He was attacked. Elena found him bleeding out in our kitchen last night. Someone stabbed him."

Bonnie stared in shock. Jenna looked sympathetic to her surprise.

"You know what? I'm going to go grab coffee for everyone. I'm not really ready to face that group yet. Elena's one floor up, she wanted to give Sheriff Forbes some space. Why don't you go see her?"

Bonnie nodded and headed upstairs.

As soon as Bonnie exited the elevator she came face to face with Elena. Her friend had been pacing, but immediately made her way towards Bonnie. The witch hadn't seen her best friend in weeks, and it was a shock to see her. It was one thing to think about how alike Katherine and Elena looked, but another to see it in front of you. Their faces were exactly the same.

Her first week in 1864 she'd been uncomfortable around Katherine. She'd kept expecting Katherine to move or speak a certain way, like Elena, and been unsettled each time she didn't. Bonnie felt that same swoop of surprise in her stomach when Elena rushed towards her now. She'd expected the smooth strut of Katherine.

"Bonnie, how's Caroline?" Elena asked. Bonnie shook herself back to the present. This was 2010 and she was with Elena.

"She's weak. They don't know if she's going to make it." Elena's face fell, and Bonnie tightened her arms around her friend. Elena's face was so open and vulnerable, it was impossible to mistake her for anyone but her childhood friend. Even during her drunken-sharing session Katherine's face had been combative.

Out of the corner of her eye Bonnie saw Damon's figure lurking, eyes assessing the situation. He was waiting for the right moment to enter the scene. She almost rolled her eyes at his love for theatrics but was distracted by Elena.

"Is there something that you can do? Like a spell, or something?"

"She doesn't know how. Do you?" Cue dramatic, and rude, entrance. Bonnie glared up at Damon. Her relief at returning home had made Bonnie forget how much of a dick Damon had been when she'd last seen him. His humanity wasn't off now though. He had no excuse.

"No. I don't."

"No, you don't. Because it took Emily _years_ to learn a spell like that."

Bonnie could have responded with a quip about how easily she could take down a vampire, or some other threat from Emily's lessons, but she decided to ignore the opportunity to banter for once.

"There isn't a spell for this at all, Elena. It doesn't matter how many years I've studied it or not. Magic doesn't really do healing. It's against Nature. There are spells to prevent diseases and injuries, but once you have them…" Bonnie trailed off.

"How could healing be against nature? Shouldn't it be the opposite?" Elena asked. Bonnie shook her head.

"Sickness and injury are part of life, just like magic. Trying to postpone them is one thing, but reversing them, or stopping them…that would create something else, an abomination." Bonnie cast a significant look at Damon. He seemed to catch her meaning.

"I can give Caroline some blood." He offered.

"No. No way." Elena said, shaking her head.

"Just enough to heal her. She'll be safe in the hospital and it'll be out of her system in a day. She'll be better, Elena."

"It's too risky. I can't agree to that."

"Do it." Bonnie interrupted Elena's moralizing with the soft-spoken order. She'd held her morality so rigid against vampires that she decided traveling in time was easier than asking the Salvatores for a little blood. She wouldn't be making that mistake twice.

"This is Caroline. Okay? We can't let her die." Bonnie appealed to Elena before turning back to Damon. "Do it."

The vampire looked considering. "If I do this, you and me?" He started, gesturing between their bodies, "We call a truce."

Bonnie had gotten so used to working with Damon, of loving him, that she'd been shocked by his lack of emotion when she saw him in front of her childhood home. But she was back in her own time now, and she couldn't forget how things were. If nothing had changed that meant that he'd known her this whole time, she told herself again. He'd known Bonnie and he'd still attacked her, threatened her, hurt her friends and her town. He was still a vampire, and the Bennetts were no longer protected from him.

"No." Bonnie looked straight at Damon. For the first time in the conversation he was really looking at her, not just watching Elena's reactions to their conversation. Bonnie would not let herself get used to it. Not again. "But you'll do it anyway. For Elena."

Damon's eyes narrowed, but Bonnie could see Elena nodding from the corner of her eye. She knew that in a second Damon would be drawn back into the doppelganger's orbit, that he would forget this conversation with her even happened. Jenna had confirmed it for her already.

Bonnie turned away before his could drift back to Elena and left. Damon would feed Caroline his blood and she'd be fine. Bonnie could sleep for a few hours before coming back to the hospital.

Bonnie stared at her distorted reflection in the burnished metal of the elevator doors.

Last year, she'd told Caroline that it wasn't a competition, and the night after the first Founder's Celebration, she'd told Stefan she didn't enter fights she knew she couldn't win. Apparently, she'd lied to both of them.

Half unknowingly, Bonnie had thrown her hat into the ring for Damon Salvatore's heart, and now she was reaping the rewards. She'd known she'd already lost long before she'd begun, but it was already too late.

The elevator doors opened and Bonnie stepped out. Today was the first day of the rest of her life, and she was going to do it right this time. No more bothering with things she couldn't change, and that included Damon being in love with Elena.

No, looking forward she needed to find things she could affect, and could enjoy. And there were so many things she had gained a new appreciation for. Mystic Falls may not be the culinary capital of Virginia, but it had more choices than its 19th century iteration. First step to embracing her life and future was getting a slice of pizza.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title from: you can't unring a bell
> 
> Yes, the reveal is finally here. Bonnie didn't change anything. Sorry! This choice was heavily influenced by a passage in Carmen Maria Machado's In the Dream House. You can read that passage [here](https://cinqjours.tumblr.com/post/627107149821116417/in-the-dream-house-by-carmen-maria-machado-on) on my tumblr. If you just want to know more about the Novikov's principle of time travel (you can't change time but will just create a self-fulfilling loop), you can find the wikipedia page [here](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Novikov_self-consistency_principle#Time-loop_logic).
> 
> a few additional drabbles to hurt your heart re: the time loop--
> 
> Zach had read his ancestors' journals many times. He'd read Giuseppe's, and Alessandro's, and his wife Rachel's. They'd mentioned a woman who came to town, who smiled with sunshine, and radiated magic and trustworthiness. They'd said her last name was McCullough, but some things never added up, starting with her close friendship with Emily, and ending with the odd artifact found among her things. Zach was an adult himself before he recognized it as a cell phone, a model new on the market just that year. He surreptitiously made a few cuttings from his cellar crop. He would plant them by the girl's house, and have a talk with her grandmother. Uncle Stefan was coming back into town, and who knows what would follow.  
> *  
> Emily, Bonnie thought, had known Bonnie when she had possessed her, and she had known Damon. Had her ancestor been trying to protect the town from vampires? Or protect Bonnie from Damon's anger over her lies? Or was her action actually meant to set Damon free from his oath to her line so that he and Bonnie could meet on equal footing? The possession didn't allow for any transference of thought, so Bonnie never found out. (There had been a slight emotional bleed. Determination and fear, followed by overwhelming relief, presumably when Emily discovered that the flames could not hurt her. That Bonnie's body would remain untouched in the sigil of fire. Elena later described her ancestor as proud, chin up as she stood, unyielding, against Damon's desperation. Bonnie wondered how Emily managed to keep her emotions from her face. It could not have been easy, to face the flames. She must have had good reason).  
>  *  
> Damon saw Emily when she held up the necklace, fire alight around her. Emily, who burned in 1864. Emily, who never returned to speak with her spirit-touched daughter, no matter how Ruthie begged and pleaded to the empty air while her confused older brother and a heartbroken vampire hovered awkwardly around her. No, Emily had been saving herself for this. Saving her power so that she could destroy the necklace, and keep him out of the tomb forever. He didn't doubt that she knew that the tomb was the catalyst for Bonnie, that with her actions she was trying to prevent her descendant’s trip as much as protect the town. Damon lunged, and it was only after Bonnie’s blood filled his mouth, her scent his nose, that his rage cleared. Had his attack driven Emily from this body? Or had the spirit already fled by the time he bit down? _The only time a vampire drank from me, he was attacking me. I didn't even understand why, it was in revenge for something I didn't even do._ Damon remembered the shiver Bonnie couldn't suppress as she shared the little info she would about the attack. And hadn’t he promised to rip that very vampire apart for her? Oh, the irony of time travel. He stumbled back, and left Stefan to clean up his mess. The taste of her blood lingered in his mouth for hours.  
> *  
> "I'm not Bonnie," Sheila Bennett said as she stepped over the threshold. Their eyes were locked, and both of them remembered how he treated her granddaughter that day when his emotions were off. He regretted his actions, and Sheila her inaction. For so long she'd stayed safely in the realm of theoretical magic, using her weak magical core as an excuse, but after that day she ventured into the practical to learn this aneurism spell. Just for him. "You don't want to mess with me.


	20. no good deed

_We are all brothers under the skin, and I, for one,  
would be willing to skin humanity to prove it.  
—Ayn Rand_

Bonnie wandered through the Lockwood mansion with no real goal in mind. She’d said some empty platitudes to Tyler and his mom, passing on her father’s condolences in his absence. Her father hadn’t called her in at least a week before her trip through time, but he’d played tennis with the mayor a few times so a mention was expected. Carol Lockwood looked more furious than grief-stricken, and Bonnie tried to avoid her accusatory stare as it swept the room. Mayor Lockwood had helped set up the Device and following vampire sting, his death could hardly be laid at her feet.

Elena wasn’t at the house yet, Caroline was still in the hospital, and Matt had pulled a double shift at the Grill, so Bonnie went from room to room, unsure exactly what she was supposed to be doing. She wanted to leave, had thought it’d be a quick trip to drop off some store-bought cookies that would be thrown out by the end of the day, but no one else was leaving, so she stayed.

The mansion was filled with her classmates , but Bonnie didn’t feel like listening to fake happy stories about the mayor, or plotting out plans to help Tyler out of his grief with drugs or sex, so she avoided them all.

Bonnie rounded the corner, swerved to avoid a rather drunk looking Aimee Bradley, and ran straight into a hard chest instead. Two hands reached out to catch her in her stumble, but she steadied herself before they made contact with her shoulders.

“Whoa, there, slow down Bennett.” Bonnie met the handsome stranger’s eyes, a stranger who apparently knew her name. Her confusion must have shown on her face because he raised his hands and took a step back.

“Hey, don’t call Stranger Danger on me, I’ve known you since you were knee-high. Guess I can’t be surprised or hurt; Tyler barely recognized me and he’s family.” The man grinned down at her; his gap-toothed smile still as charming now as it was when she was twelve.

“Wait, Mason? Is that you?”

“Good to know I made an impression on you at least, I thought I was going to have to reintroduce myself to everyone here.” He said jovially, despite his brother’s recent death.

“No, you definitely made an impression on me. I had the biggest crush on you when I was a kid.” Bonnie said, before making a face at herself. Why did she feel the need to share that?

“When I was at Whitmore? And you were in middle school? Wasn’t Tyler more your speed?”

“Do you remember Tyler at twelve? The Axe and hair gel? No, thank you. Sixth grade Bonnie had more discerning tastes. It was absolutely Mrs. Mason Lockwood written in my journal.” Bonnie joked. It was already out there, might as well roll with it before she went and buried herself in the plot next to Mayor Lockwood out of embarrassment.

“Discerning tastes, huh? And these didn’t tell you I was bit too old for you?”

“What can I say? The follies of youth. Didn’t know when a man was too old, or when he was lying about his car being sprayed by a skunk for a _third_ time when he drove me and Tyler home from swim practice.”

They both laughed, and Mason snagged two glasses as a server walked by. He took a quick sip of one before handing Bonnie the other.

“Just sparkling cider. I guess Carol is trying to be more careful with all of you high schoolers around.” Bonnie rolled her eyes. If Carol Lockwood had made that resolution, it was a very new one. Bonnie’d had multiple alcoholic drinks offered to her today, and absolutely no one had asked for ID.

“So, what have you been up to, Mason? The last time Tyler said anything was…um…”

“When I dropped out of college? Yeah, that decision didn’t make Richard super welcoming of me in his home. But it was for the best; we never really got along. It was as much on me as him. But I’ve been traveling a lot, up and down the east coast mainly.”

“Trying to catch the perfect wave?” She offered. That might explain why he didn’t have a single piece of dark or formal clothing to wear to this event. But maybe he hadn’t expected the town to have descended onto the Lockwood home to witness their grief. Not that such an event was unexpected; Carol Lockwood had servers at the ready even when all of them were allegedly just dropping off casserole dishes.

“Yeah, I mean, I was. But I don’t know, I’ve been thinking it might be time for me to choose somewhere and stay awhile, maybe actually put down some roots. Never been my speed before, but this whole thing with Richard has me rethinking a lot.” He finished; eyes downcast. Bonnie reached out a hand in sympathy. She understood all to well how the death of a family member could throw your entire life into a new light.

The flash of panic, rage, and bloodlust that hit her when she touched his forearm threw her, but her shocked squeeze could be interpreted as an attempt at comfort. She hoped. Bonnie tried to remember the psychic read she’d gotten off George Lockwood’s skin, but was startled to realized she’d never actually touched him. Gloves and propriety had completely prevented it.

Bonnie saw Elena in the next room and breathed a sigh of relief, finally someone she could talk to here.

“I’m sure whatever you decide to do will be for the best. I’m gonna go grab ‘Lena, but we should catch up some more later, okay?” Bonnie said with a wave towards Elena.

He followed her hand as it gestured to Elena across the hall. She was pouting, drink in hand, as she picked at a platter of cheese cubes and grapes. She didn’t look very like herself, but Bonnie could cut her some slack considering the stress she’d been through recently, between John and Jeremy. And whatever was going on between her, Damon, and Stefan. Plus, no one here looked quite right. The mayor was a hard man to pretend to mourn.

“Elena? She’s here too?” Mason said.

“Yeah, she’s right there. Next to the fireplace?” Bonnie clarified, even though Mason was looking right at Elena.

“That’s Elena? You’re sure?” Bonnie looked up at him. She’d clocked him as supernatural as soon as she touched him. Knowing what she did about George Lockwood, she thought it was a safe guess to label Mason as a werewolf. But the interest in Elena kind of leaned more into vampire territory. Unless he was somehow in love with her too, which Bonnie wouldn’t put past him. It was a common theme in the town. But Mason didn’t look in love, or in lust. He looked…disturbed.

“That’s definitely Elena. You okay, Mason?” He stepped back from her and tore his eyes away from Elena.

“Yeah, Bonnie. I’m fine. It was nice talking to you. We should totally catch up sometime.” He backed away, heading down the hall. Bonnie shrugged off his weirdness and turned back to head towards her friend. But Elena was gone.

“Who was that, witchy?” Damon flicked a lock of her hair as he spoke from behind her, and Bonnie jumped in surprise. She had to stop doing that. If she was going to hang around the Salvatores she’d have to get better at stoicism in the face of abrupt entrances.

“He’s Tyler’s uncle, Mason.”

“Hmm. You two looked cozy.” Bonnie scoffed.

“Really, Damon?”

He has some nerve, Bonnie thought, looking judgmental of her coziness with anyone when he’d been kissing his brother’s girlfriend. Bonnie pushed down her growing annoyance. Annoyance at Damon butting her nose into his business obviously, but also at her brain’s constant reminder of Jenna’s gossip.

“Hey, new faces don’t mean anything good in this town.” He said. Which, you know, was a fair point.

“Well, you would know. But maybe we should be less aggressive and more casually curious, at least once.”

“Why? Because you have a crush on this one?” He sneered. His inflection made it clear that he’d heard her reminiscing with Mason, and he wasn’t happy about it. Bonnie rolled her eyes.

Damon tried to slip away, to leave the conversation, no doubt thinking his one liner was a perfect time to exit, but Bonnie wasn’t going to let him escape, and she followed him into the dining room.

“Damon, did you know the Gilbert Device affected Tyler Lockwood?”

“Well,” Damon popped a grape in his mouth, “I know it took the mayor down.”

“Don’t you want to know why?”

“Yes, Bonnie, I would love to know why a non-vampire was tortured by the vampire torture device that you let John Gilbert use against us. Speaking of your guilt, how’s Caroline?”

“She’s much better.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Thank you. I mean, you definitely owed it to Caroline after what you put her through, but thank you.”

“No threats on my person today, witchy? You aren’t actually grieving the mayor are you?”

“Hardly. You want to be threatened?”

“I like it when you sprinkle it through our conversations, keeps me on my toes.”

Bonnie sent a hint of an aneurism his way and he dropped his grape, cringing away from her. She immediately stopped, feeling a little sick. She could kill him where he stood, with just a thought. Of course, he could kill her with just a flick of his wrists. Did that make them equal, or just another level of toxic?

“Okay, no more sprinkling necessary. Thanks.” He said, voice strained.

“I’m glad to remind you whenever, Damon, all you have to do is ask. Or do something stupid. I don’t care what you have going on with Elena, if you make on wrong move you’ll have to answer to me.” Bonnie said, ignoring her own nausea at the thought of hurting Damon. This was a line she had to mark in the sand. Damon couldn’t go around killing innocent people carte blanche anymore, not when she was here.

Damon had already straightened and readjusted his shirt.

“Answer to you? Kind of kinky, huh, Bonnie?” He wiggled his eyebrows. The answering spark of desire exploded into anger inside Bonnie, but she snuffed both out immediately. She took a deep breath.

“I don’t want you to say that kind of stuff to me anymore, Damon. If you’re being real about your feelings for Elena, you have to be better about a lot of things, this included, okay?” She patted his shoulder as she walked by him out of the room. Bonnie could be emotionally mature. But maybe a drink wouldn’t hurt, and not a sparkling cider this time.

Bonnie had successfully avoided running into her freshman boyfriend, her current calculus teacher, and a still angry Carol Lockwood, when she spotted Elena again, this time outside on the porch.

“Hey!” Bonnie called out, and her friend turned to her with a smile. She almost didn’t want to spoil it, but the elephant had to be addressed. “Listen, Elena, I don’t know what you’re doing with Damon, but please get a handle on it okay?”

Elena’s head tilted, and her smile faded.

“Funny you should say that, Bonnie, I was just about to say the same thing to _you_ about Damon.”

“What? El—” She stopped short. Bonnie’s mind wasn’t playing tricks on her this time. That head tilt was not Elena. And the hair, while smaller than the coif she’d worn in the 80s, had way more volume than Elena ever sported.

“Katherine.”

“The one and only.” Katherine said with an impish grin. Bonnie’s mind raced. If Katherine was here, she must already know about Elena. Klaus wouldn’t be far behind.

“What are you doing here?”

“Wow what a warm welcome! Well, Bon Bon, I’m here for some answers. Starting with: what the fuck? You said we were friends!” Katherine said. She didn’t sound like an angry vampire out to suck Bonnie’s blood, but more like Caroline the day she found out Elena was abandoning their matching trio of Halloween costumes to be a sexy nurse with Matt. Betrayed, but not murderous.

“That’s not exactly what I said.” Bonnie answered cautiously. While Katherine didn’t seem actually upset, that probably came from the high of discovering another doppelganger. Freedom seemed within reach, and she might not realize that Bonnie was not going to let Katherine trade Elena to Klaus for her own safety. When Bonnie didn’t give Katherine what she wanted, the vampire could change her tune and have Bonnie pinned against the wall instantly.

“Don’t try and squeak by on technicalities now, you devious bitch. Just admit it, you lied to me!”

“Okay, I lied. But not really! I mean, here we all are, you, me, and the Salvatores back in Mystic Falls.”

“Like you even knew that was coming! Just own it Bonnie, you lied to my face and actually got away with it. I’ll make a con woman out of you yet. Now come here!” Katherine threw her arms around the witch exuberantly. Katherine might not be trustworthy, but she was fun.

“This is great, this means that our friendship is actually equal and I don’t have to worry if my future self shared some juicy gossip with you, or betrayed you and you’ve just been waiting this whole time to stab me in the back dramatically. Believe me, that’s a relief.”

Bonnie laughed weakly.

“Yeah, that would be something you would have to worry about.”

“But not with you. God, Bonnie, Mystic Falls has gotten even duller. It’s been such a drag trying to piece Elena’s life together. Isobel said it was a puzzle, but wow. And of course the first thing I’m greeted with when I get to town is that ridiculous torture device of Jonathan Gilbert’s. I don’t know what it was about that man that made both Pearl and Emily so stupid, but I never saw the attraction. Though, I have to say, watching you play witch to Elena and the Salvatores, before stabbing them in the back with the Gilbert Device…just wow. It was inspired.” Bonnie pulled away.

“I regret that, don’t compliment me on it please.”

“I won’t stop, I loved it. Here I was, worried about all of those tomb vampires out for revenge on me, and you got rid of them in one fell swoop. Amazing.”

“Really, don’t compliment me on things I consider mistakes.”

“Would that be bagging Damon, or losing him to my clone? Tell me now, I’ll be sure to focus on the opposite.”

Bonnie sighed, good mood evaporating.

“Katherine, what are you really here for?”

“It can’t just be to see you?” Katherine said with a wink.

“No.”

“Here I am, maligned just for visiting a friend. I even brought you a gift.”

“I hope it’s not a bottle of Rakia.”

“We should do that again sometime! It was the first time I’d had a hangover in a decade, and you didn’t even have to deal with the aftereffects in your own body. But no, this gift is much better than that. I’m not sure you deserve it, but since I already took care of your payback, I guess I can let it go.”

Bonnie felt for the poor witch who had to suffer her hangover from the strong liquor. Would it be weird to send a sorry-about-that bouquet thirty years later?

“Payback?” She asked absentmindedly, trying to figure out how she would track the witch down.

“For the lies. I couldn’t just let that go, even if you are my oldest friend.” Katherine said pleasantly. But Bonnie saw the satisfaction in her eyes. Katherine wasn’t angry because she felt that she’d already gotten even.

“Katherine, what did you do?”

“Well I couldn’t have you replacing me, now could I? Elena was the original target obviously, but she’s basically never without a Salvatore bodyguard. You should watch that, by the way. Your Salvatore was all over me when he thought I was her.”

“My Salvatore? Damon isn’t mine. But if you couldn’t get Elena, then who—?” Bonnie realized that she had not checked up on Caroline after she’d left the hospital. She had trusted that Damon’s blood would do its job without her oversight. That had been a mistake. Bonnie flew down the porch stairs, not bothering with goodbyes or threats.

“Calm down! It’s not like she won’t wake up!” Katherine called after her. Bonnie ignored her, running across the lawn as fast as she could. Carol Lockwood would probably moan about her grass and the purpose of walkways, but this was the shortest path to Bonnie’s car.

Besides, someone else was on the lawn too. Bonnie ran by Stefan, and she saw him look over her head at Katherine on the porch.

“That’s not Elena!” She tossed as a warning over her shoulder, but she didn’t stop to watch the fallout. Stefan could handle himself. Probably.

In her car, Bonnie sped towards the hospital, eyeing her fuel gauge nervously. She really needed to fill the tank, but the mundanities of modern life had escaped her for the past day and a half.

When she rushed into Caroline’s room she found the blonde standing in the deepest shadow available in the bright room. Her vervain necklace was discarded on the floor, and Bonnie could just see the corner of a drained blood bag tucked beneath the pillows. It was already done.

“Oh, Caroline.”

“Bonnie? I don’t know what’s going on. I’m scared.” Caroline’s face took on a sharp whine, and Bonnie could see the tears that were about to fall.

Her best friend was now a vampire and would need to drink blood to survive. Bonnie stepped into the room and closed the door behind her. 

When Grams had discovered that the Salvatores were in Mystic Falls, she’d talked to Bonnie about vampires. Grams had described how their very existence was a crime against Nature, and how a witch who allowed themself to believe a vampire was their friend was as good as dead.

Like most of her lessons, Bonnie hadn’t paid much attention. After her grandmother’s death, she’d revisited her advice, but her trip to the past had mitigated any lingering hate she had for the species.

On balance, Damon had now saved her life more than he’d threatened it, and Bonnie had counted Damon and Stefan, and even Katherine, as her friends. A vampire took advantage of the Titanic sinking to slaughter innocent people, but another helped her save even more. Klaus had caused the deaths of a dozen witches, but hadn’t Analise been a part of that? Hadn’t she made that choice to sacrifice her coven? The world could hardly be divided along a simple line, with good witches on one side, and evil vampires on the other.

Besides, this was Caroline. Caroline her best friend, who always laughed too loudly, and danced like an idiot, and who cried over being second best to Elena. Caroline, who promised to share her mom with Bonnie after Abby left, who baked her cupcakes when Bonnie broke her arm in sixth grade, who created a fully-diagramed battle plan for Elena and Bonnie to get dates to senior prom their freshman year after being asked herself by Andrew Haskell.

Caroline who was cowering the corner of the hospital room she’d almost died in. Bonnie crossed the room and pulled the window curtains tightly closed. Caroline’s entire body relaxed, and Bonnie turned arms outstretched, and just in time to accept a desperate hug from her sobbing friend.

“I think Elena killed me Bonnie! And now the sun burns, and I bit a nurse, and it tasted good! What is happening to me?”

“Shh, shh, I’ve got you. Everything is going to be okay, Caroline.”

* * *

“So, you’re telling me that I’m now a vampire. That vampires are real. That werewolves are real. Witches are real. And apparently time travel is real. Does that about cover it?” Caroline ticked off each of these points on her finger, before looking to Bonnie for further confirmation. Not that Bonnie could do more than confirm her own words and perform a little levitation to prove magic was real.

“Yeah, and Elena—”

“Right. I forgot. Elena is some weird mystical being that doesn’t get any of the extra powers everyone else gets, but looks exactly like a vampire who was born five hundred years ago, who you are now friends with because you traveled two hundred years in the past—”

“Only a hundred fifty—”

“And Elena’s evil clone is the one who killed me. Because she’s jealous of our friendship?”

“Katherine never has only one reason for doing anything, and I doubt I’m the actual reason. But that I what she said. I’m sorry she killed you, Caroline.”

“Wow, thanks. That means a lot to me now that I’m dead! You could have told me about all of this, Bonnie. But you and Elena just left me out, like always.”

“Caroline it wasn’t like that. I tried to tell you about the witch stuff remember, but you seemed freaked out. And Elena said that Stefan—”

“So you just let Elena make that decision for me? Based on Stefan? You barely knew him!”

“I thought you’d be safer, with not knowing.”

“Yeah, safer. In case you forgot on your trip to la la land, Damon was eating me!”

“Caroline, I’m sorry. When all this started I didn’t know about vampires either, or anything they could do. I just thought Damon was an ass. By the time I learned about compulsion, Elena said she’d figured out a way to protect you.”

“The necklace?”

“Yeah, it has vervain in it. It stops you from being compelled, and when you drink it your blood becomes poisonous to vampires.”

“I guess I’ll have to watch out when weeding the garden now. At night. God, what am I going to tell me mom?”

“Actually, Caroline, your mom knows. Not about you! But she’d on a secret town council that hunts vampires.”

“She knows about this? And she also didn’t tell me. What the hell? What is wrong with you people? Next you’ll be telling me that Dad and Steve are international vampire hunters!”

“I didn’t want you to know. You were so into Matt, and it seemed like you’d be able to get through high school without dealing with all the scary stuff I was. To be honest, I was jealous. That’s one of the reasons I tried the time spell. I wanted to stop me from finding out about vampires.”

“But how could you not know about vampires? Or Damon, at least? He was obsessed with you.”

“That necklace we fought over? It was my ancestor’s and the key to a tomb of vampires that had been trapped under Fell’s Church for the last century. He thought his, um, ex-girlfriend was in there. Katherine, the one that looks like Elena.”

“Yeah, you covered that in the initial overview. But I’m talking way before the crystal. That night at the Grill, when you first made flirty eyes at the bartender—”

“He was a vampire too. He kidnapped me and Elena after I went on that date with him.”

“Townie Ben was a vampire? And he kidnapped you? What the—no. No getting sidetracked. After the back to school party, when we were at the Grill, do you remember?”

“Yes, waiting for you to sober up and get over Stefan. I leave for two seconds—”

“To flirt with a vampire bartender.” Caroline interjected.

“I leave for two seconds to pay the bill and get you some water and I come back and you’re flirting with Damon, giving me serious do-not-come-over-here eyes. I was stuck playing Tetris on my phone until it died, and you were willing to leave.”

“I know I was not giving you any looks because I wasn’t flirting! He was literally interrogating me about you. He wanted to know everything, and I was hyping you up and…and then he made me forget. How could I forget that? I was going to set you up!” Caroline insisted, but then snorted. “I thought he was a better catch than Ben. Can’t believe they were both blood-sucking assholes.”

“He probably compelled you. Vampires can do that. You can do that now. You can make people do what you want, and forget what you want. I think you did it to the nurse earlier, from what you described.”

“That’s freaky.”

“Yup.”

“But why am I remembering now?”

“You’re a vampire now. I guess it breaks the compulsion.”

“Hmm. Good to know. Also, I expect you to hold Damn down while I punch him later. But back to this weird German twin thing.”

“Doppelganger.”

“Yeah, that. You said that some bad guy came to town to kill Elena when we were kids? And your mom locked it up, but now a different bad guy is going to come any day now to sacrifice Elena after Katherine hands her over to break this Sun and Moon curse?”

“No, the Sun and Moon curse was a lie that Klaus told me, but I don’t know what Katherine believes. He’s actually trying to break a curse on himself, so that he can be both a vampire and a werewolf.”

“Okay, got it. Can I just say, Bonnie, you are so lucky I know now. I get why you didn’t tell me, even if I don’t agree with that decision, but I’m surprised nothing has gone worse. None of you are planners at all. All of you are doers, never thinking ahead.”

“I feel like I should be offended, but the time travel mistake has been pretty humbling.”

“Don’t worry, you have me now. And I am going to deal with all of these problems exactly like I would anything else.”

“With research and extensive to-do lists?”

“Exactly! You know me so well! First things first, I need my laptop, and you need to give Elena the checklist for the carnival. There is no way I can spare you, so Elena will just have to handle that on her own.”

“Elena could help us!”

“And then who would be left to run the carnival? Aimee Bradley? Tiki? Please. I need Elena to do this. We can check in with her later tonight, once the sun stops burning my skin. It will be too late to salvage the carnival if she’s completely messed it up, but at least we’ll be there to commiserate and do some damage control.”

“Are you sure going out in public is a good idea? It’s kind of soon and you’re still getting used to everything.”

“I’ll scoop another blood bag before we go, and besides, you said you can take Damon and Stefan down. I’m brand new, so I must be much weaker than them. Just promise me that we’ll stick together, and it will all be fine.”

“Alright, and once we’re sure you can handle it, I’ll make you your own daylight ring. Those let you walk in the sun.”

“You’re the best, Bonnie! Have it ready by Monday morning, I’ll be ready! I’ll have to be; I have a chem quiz that I can’t miss if I want to keep my GPA. Now shoo, I have to call Matt and tell him that we’re doing an immersive girls’ weekend and he can’t visit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title from: no good deed goes unpunished
> 
> Small outtake written in response to a review on FFN. The review asked what Damon asked Caroline that night at the Grill--enjoy!
> 
> "Give me a minute, Care, I'm just going to pay the check." Bonnie said as she got up from the table. Caroline watched her go gloomily. Alone again. She was always going to be alone. She looked up and met the eyes of the next table's only occupant.
> 
> Tables at the Grill were placed weirdly close together tonight. But it didn't matter because this guy was hot. Capital H Hot, actually. And he was smiling at her! Caroline tentatively smiled back. Was her face red? Was her mascara running? Did she look drunk? She must not look bad, because Hot Guy stood up and walked the two feet separating their tables and slid into Bonnie's seat.
> 
> "Hi." Caroline said.
> 
> "Hi." He said back with a smirk, as if she'd said the most amusing thing he'd ever heard, and not a silly one word greeting.
> 
> "I'm Caroline, um, nice to meet you."
> 
> "That it is, Caroline. I'm Damon." He said, eyes lidded. Caroline smiled widely. This guy oozed sex appeal. Stefan who? Damon was obviously way better. He was older, hotter, and...not really paying any attention to her. Caroline's beer-soaked brain caught up to the situation. He was definitely giving off flirty vibes, but he was also glancing over her shoulder constantly. Caroline took a peak at what had caught his attention. Bonnie stood, just talking, with the bartender by the register. Bonnie started laughing. That was her flirty laugh! And she was using it on the townie bartender? Caroline looked back at Damon. His eyes didn't even dart back to her, but stayed locked on Bonnie. His face was completely unstudied, mouth slack, his brows unfurrowed. He was enraptured. 
> 
> Okay. Okay. Caroline might be 0 for 2 tonight, but that wasn't going to stop her from being a good friend. Bonnie hadn't gone on a good date in ages, and no guy had ever, ever, look at her like this one was. Time to make some magic happen.
> 
> "So, are you new around here? Me and Bonnie both serve on the town's welcome committee, and I'm sure one of us could show you around!" That wasn't true. There was no such thing as the Mystic Falls Welcome Committee (though if it did exist, Caroline would surely be the Chair) because no one new ever came here. 
> 
> "Not exactly new, no. I grew up here, but I moved away a long time ago." Like she said, no one new. 
> 
> His face brightened, and Caroline looked at Bonnie again. Her friend was staring at their table, confused and maybe a little worried. Caroline widened her eyes and gave a minute shake of her head. She needed more time to lay the groundwork, she needed to have secured Bonnie a date by the time she came back over here. Bonnie rolled her eyes and pulled out her phone, not giving Damon a second look. Oh, Caroline thought, this is going to be so great. She turned back to Damon and paused. His face looked funny, frozen, but his eyes were sad. Had he expected Bonnie to get one look at him and throw herself at him? Even he wasn't that hot.
> 
> "Well, things change all the time around here," A lie, but Caroline continued airily on, "so a tour would still be fun. Maybe with lunch at a new restaurant? I think Bonnie is free tomorrow afternoon, what do you think?" 
> 
> His eyes met hers again. Wow, they were a pretty color, but what was up with his pupils? 
> 
> "I think you're right, Caroline, things have changed around here, and I need to know all about it. Why don't you start with Bonnie Bennett. Tell me everything." 
> 
> And she did. 
> 
> Note: As for specific questions, Damon didn't ask them, he just frustratingly kept telling Caroline to skip stories as she recounted going bra shopping with Bonnie for the first time, and their school trip to an apple farm in third grade, or their first period experiences. But he listened woodenly as she talked about Bonnie as a child, right after Abby left. How no one would tell her what was going on, and she'd confessed to Caroline that she thought her mom was dead. How alone Bonnie had felt. And how she'd oddly linked her mother's abandonment with the mean dog down the street. Bonnie had cried more when that dog died than she had in years. Like she'd lost another parent, or her last source of unconditional love.


	21. the better part of valor

_No one saves us but ourselves.  
No one can and no one may.  
We ourselves must walk the path.  
—Buddha _

Caroline was doing well. Bonnie had stuck close to her since they left the hospital, and it seemed like the two blood bags she’d drank, while Bonnie looked on with unabashed disgust, had done the trick. She wasn’t eyeing any of the carnival goers hungrily, and she’d devoured a plateful of deep-fried Oreos happily while gushing about her new super metabolism. But still, it didn’t hurt to check in.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Caroline? This is a lot of people; we could just go home. Ease you into it a bit more.” Bonnie questioned gently, but Caroline brushed her concern away and continued to wave and smile at every townsperson who so much as looked their way.

“Bonnie, it’s fine! It’s all about compartmentalizing, like when I lost the bake off to Olivia Tarven but I still had to work with her in biology lab. Every emotion and action has its place. Do I know that all of these people taste way better than my ice cold blood bags? Yes. Do I kind of want to kill them? Also, yes. But I also want to be a good person, and to graduate high school without going to prison and or a government lab. So I’ll stick to the refrigerated stuff. Although I am definitely looking into microwaving as an option.”

“You’re prioritizing away your bloodlust?” Bonnie asked as she opened the door to head inside.

“Yup! I told you that you should have come to that Kappa Theta seminar with me. See, even that ridiculous slideshow on dieting was useful. Mind over matter works every time! And look around, this could actually be a good thing. Now that I’ve been dragged into the know, you and Elena don’t have to be so shady all the time and might actually be able to socialize like normal people.”

“Sorry, Care. It just kind of sweeps you up. It’s hard to remember about the latest decade dance when you’re dealing with a bunch of murderous vampires.”

“To achieve happiness, you need a good work-life balance.” She said with the tone of a prophet laying wisdom down a disciple, before she broke character. “Or real world versus underworld balance, I guess. You should be a master at it, now that you’ve completed your hero’s journey.”

“My what?”

“You know, your hero’s journey? Everything’s there. A mistake based on hubris? Your quest through time? Lessons learned? Love won? Magic! Bonnie this is some classic stuff. I know you said you nodded off in Tanner’s, but Mrs. Ardsley’s not nearly as dull.”

Bonnie shrugged. “You know those have never been my best classes. Too many opinions. Math and science are so much easier to deal with. Simple.” It was one of the reasons Emily’s Grimoire had frustrated her, besides all the rock metaphors. Emily had written each spell like a story, while Bonnie thought magic should be like a scientific equation, with constant inputs and outputs.

“Mmhmm, and reactions? Chemical reactions? Chemistry?” Caroline winked exaggeratedly.

“Please stop.”

“Hey, you decided to tell me you fell for Damon Salvatore of all people. I get to make fun of you for at least a year, even if you’ve decided not to pursue it.”

“Chemistry jokes though? Really?”

“Okay, okay, I’ll improve my material, I promise. But back to the topic at hand. Just take tonight as an example; Elena’s done a great job, even with all this secret vampire drama! She hasn’t lost her touch. You guys just need to be reminded that this world exists and that it’s important too.”

“I got it, Caroline. No more skipping out on prom committee to study magic.”

“Well…maybe I’ll let that slide. But only because I think that levitating thing you do will help majorly for setting up lights for prom.”

“Care!” Bonnie laughed, pushing her friend’s shoulder. But the vampire didn’t budge, and didn’t laugh despite her earlier good humor. She stared down the hall, towards the arm-wrestling ring. Bonnie followed her eyes, and saw Stefan and Damon talking to one of the carnival workers.

“Bonnie, I can hear them. They’re compelling him. Why would they be doing that?”

Before Bonnie could answer, Caroline rushed down the hall. Fast, but not supernaturally so. Bonnie followed, darting between people haphazardly. Caroline had pushed Damon away from his target and was now compelling the handyman herself.

“When he said fight, he meant arm wrestling. Just go fight one match and then go back to your business. You’re doing great, thanks!”

The man nodded and walked off towards the table where Mason Lockwood was reigning as champion.

“What’s going on here?” Bonnie asked.

“Why don’t you tell us, judgey? Me and Stefan here were just testing if Mason Lockwood was a real life super turtle—”

“Ninja turtle.” Stefan injected wearily. Like that made any more sense.

“Yeah, whatever, ninja turtle, when Barbie here comes out of nowhere as a vampire? When did that happen?”

Caroline glared. “What? Scared that all the shit you did is going to come back and bite you in the ass now that I’m not a weak human?”

“Blondie, I’ve still got a century on you. Maybe Bon Bon here hasn’t filled you in properly, because that seems to be her modus operandi right now, but age equals strength in our world. You’re barely as strong as Stefan here, and he’s on the bunny diet.”

“Okay, no need for anyone to fight. Caroline, Bonnie, mind filling us in here?” Stefan said, playing the peacemaker.

“Katherine killed her. She still had Damon’s blood in her system. She didn’t know what was going on, and I told her everything once I found her at the hospital.” Bonnie said, keeping it simple. No need to bring Katherine’s reasoning, or the time travel aspect, into it yet.

Damon and Stefan exchanged a glance charged with worry. What had Katherine said to Stefan after Bonnie had left the Lockwoods? What did they know?

“And then you decided to bring her here? What happened to the All Vampires Are Evil witch that we know so well?” Damon asked. Bonnie rolled her eyes at his audible use of capital letters.

“Maybe I was a bit hasty writing all of them off, based only on your actions. Not a good representative sample and all that.” Bonnie’s tone was light, but Damon looked offended.

“Hey, those tomb vampires made a bad name for themselves, you can’t put all of that on me. And anyway—” He cut his protests off short.

“Where did you get that?” He said slowly.

Bonnie’s right hand went to her left automatically. But she’d left the ring in its new home in her bedside drawer this morning, and Damon’s eyes were zeroed in on Bonnie’s chest, not her hand. The talisman. 

“My necklace? My grandfather made it. What’s it to you?” Bonnie said. Was the bloodstone distinctive enough for him to recognize it? He’d held it once, was that enough? Why hadn’t she checked that it was still hidden under her shirt?

“Your grandfather?” His jaw clenched. “Of course. Your grandfather. Well let me tell you something, that necklace isn’t for you. I commissioned it; it’s mine.”

“What is with you? Are you going to try and rip this one from my neck to? Because I don’t need a necklace to protect me anymore, I can take you down myself.” Bonnie shifted, spreading her stance to ground herself. She didn’t want to fight Damon, but she would. Especially when he was talking nonsense and trying to take another family heirloom from her.

“It’s mine. My gold, my inscription, my necklace. You don’t get to wear it when you don’t even remember it!” He sounded almost crazed, and his eyes flashed dangerously. Bonnie was not putting up with this.

“What, remember it being made before I was even alive? Get over yourself, Damon! And even if it was yours, you owe me a gold necklace anyway, remember that?” She shot back. His eyes widened.

“What did you just say?” Damon whispered, but then repeated himself louder. “What did you just say, Bonnie?”

Bonnie’s breath stopped. She’d promised herself that she wouldn’t bring this up. That she would let Damon go. That she wouldn’t hurt herself running at the solid wall that was his love for Elena. She had planned to avoid mentioning her trip at all if it wasn’t necessary, better to brush the whole thing under the rug. Her mouth, and constant need to one up Damon in conversation, apparently had not gotten the memo.

“I…um…I—” She started, but Damon cut off the beginning of Bonnie’s stuttered denial.

“Stefan, watch the baby vamp. Me and Bonnie have to talk.” Damon said, without even looking at him or Caroline.

Stefan gave a mock salute at his older brother’s words, while Caroline huffed. But both stayed put.

Damon reached out and took hold of her arm. Gently, slowly, like if he moved too fast he would spook her and there wouldn’t be an arm for him to even grab. When she didn’t disappear, he tugged her away from Stefan and Caroline, forced the door to Mr. Saltzman’s locked classroom open, and pulled her inside.

They stood and stared at each other for a full minute before Damon suddenly grinned. He swept towards her, gathering her up in his arms and spinning her around, once, then twice, before setting her down. Bonnie stepped back unsteadily. Her panicked thoughts had not predicted this reaction.

“God, Bonnie, it’s good to see you. You don’t know how miserable I’ve been with you acting like you didn’t know me.”

“That wasn’t all an act. Time travel is tricky.”

“Yeah, I know, but, when did it happen? I thought maybe, a few weeks ago, when you came to get the bloodstone, but then still, nothing. You weren’t you. And then— hey, what’s wrong?” Damon said, seeing something in her expression. He stepped closer to her, and Bonnie looked at the floor.

“When you left last time—”

“In ‘97? Bonnie, that wasn’t me. I’d turned my emotions off. I was acting crazy.”

“Well it seemed like you, especially now that I’m back here and you knew the whole time and acted like a monster anyway.” Bonnie’s words were half mumbled, but Damon heard them clearly.

“A monster? Well at least I know the judgement stayed.”

“Can you really blame me, Damon? You refused to help my mother. You left me! And you want to just brush it off as not you because you’re able to flip a switch and not feel pain? That’s the biggest cop out I’ve ever heard.” His grin had faded as Bonnie’s anger grew. She was no longer mumbling. She’d been suppressing her emotions about everything she’d gone through. She’d thought it wouldn’t change anything, so she wouldn’t speak about it, and it was better to just forget it all. But now everything was rising to the surface, and Bonnie couldn’t stifle the fresh rush of anger that overtook her.

“You almost let a child die! Me! And that kiss? I’ve never felt so hurt by a kiss. I trusted you and I—I was wrong. That was wrong of you.”

Each accusation seemed to strike Damon physically, and he took a step back. His words were quiet, pleading for her to understand.

“I know Bonnie, I know it was. But it’s not just an excuse. The switch makes you different…empty. A shell of yourself.”

“Then why would you ever choose it?” Her question was sharp, but she didn’t follow it with more accusations. Bonnie wanted an answer.

“By the nineties…Bonnie, you’d been gone for so long, and some bad stuff happened to me in the fifties. I just didn’t want to feel anything; I hadn’t for a long time. But I was coming around to it, and every little bit of emotion I let in made me think of you. I turned on hope and thought, hey, Bonnie said she’d be there when I opened the tomb, why don’t I just pop that seal open a little earlier than planned. So, I seduced a witchy co-ed, went all in on spell research, and it brought me back to that Bennett crystal. Barely made it to the Virginia border to collect it before Sheila was calling me in a panic over her daughter. And I thought great, two birds, one stone.” He ran a hand through his hair. Bonnie’s arm twitched at her side. Even with her anger, she had the impulse to reach out and soothe away his agitation.

“Then there you were. I saw you standing there, waiting for me for once, instead of the other way around. Bonnie, I was already reaching for that switch, ready to flip it all back on at once so I could feel again; so, I could appreciate your smile and your jokes and even your judgement. But then, the reveal.” He made bitter jazz hands in the air between them.

“You weren’t there waiting for me. You were watching yourself. Because you were a Bennett witch, ready to cash in on my oath. I’d turned on enough emotion to feel that betrayal, I’ll tell you that. Not that they stayed on much longer. Twice shy, or whatever.”

“It wasn’t like that.”

“How was it not like that? Because I thought we were friends, hell, I thought we were a lot more than that. But now that you’re here, back in your proper place, knowing everything and how I feel about you, and you didn’t even let me know. If you hadn’t just slipped, or if I hadn’t recognized the necklace, would you ever have said anything? And now you’re just trying to brush it off!” The gloomy contemplation was gone from his voice, and anger was back. Bonnie returned it in equal measure.

“I’m not brushing it off, I’m facing the facts! Do I just forget how you act now? What you did to Caroline?”

“I’m not the one who killed her!” Damon said and Bonnie actually stomped and tossed her hair in anger.

“No, you just compelled, slept with, and drank from her, all the while belittling her and questioning her about me!”

“I wasn’t at my best, but I was dealing with some stuff and—”

“Some stuff? The same _stuff_ from the fifties? Is this your excuse for everything now? And don’t try to blame this on Katherine, because you were treating Caroline horribly before you even saw the tomb, let alone opened it and found out she wasn’t there.”

“Katherine doesn’t have a monopoly on hurting my feelings, as you should realize. I came to town and there were way too many familiar faces, Caroline was a nice change.”

“So you ripped her neck open in thanks?”

“No, I drank from her because I’m a vampire and I was hungry. I treated her like shit because that’s how I felt, and she couldn’t do anything to stop me.”

“At least you realize you’re fucked up.” This came from the doorway, where Caroline and Stefan now stood. Damon scrubbed his hand over his face in frustration.

“Yeah, I know, Barbie. Can’t exactly go to a therapist about it, it’s hard to explain the extra century of baggage.”

“Hmm. Good point. I’ll add supernatural therapist to my new list of career options. Not that I would accept you as a patient, but maybe it would open up a new market.”

“Great, glad to fuel your ambition. Now leave, the adults are talking.”

“A good way to get into Bonnie’s good graces is to actually be a decent person, but you could also start with being nice to her friends.” Caroline smirked at him when he didn’t answer with more than a defeated look before turning to the witch. “Bonnie, I’m going to head home. Stefan offered to give me a lift and to make sure I don’t kill anyone on the way out, so you’re off babysitting duty for the night. Will you be okay?”

“Yeah, Care, I’ll be fine. Go ahead.”

Caroline bounced out of the room after one last glare directed at Damon, Stefan following without a word. Bonnie sighed and turned back to Damon.

“Look, this is now, this is reality. Damon, I liked getting to know you, I liked the man you were, who you could be. But I have to face what’s right in front of me. You kill people, you don’t care, and you wanted to kiss Elena last night. I’ve come from 1864 where you were in love with my best friend, to 2010 where you’re in love with my best friend. I had a few days in between where I thought…maybe. But the answer is no, because those days didn’t really mean anything when you consider the bookends”

“Bookends? Are you fucking kidding me Bonnie? What are you even talking about? Those few days were my entire life! Don’t you get that? I have spent my entire life waiting for you to magically drop in on me and hoping that you would actually see me. And finally, finally, I get back to Mystic Falls, where and when you promised you would be, ready to open the tomb, because you said we’d open it together. And did I love Katherine? Yes, maybe, I don’t know. I knew I owed her. For this life, for Stefan, for you. And she was your friend too. But I get here and you’re here and for a moment I am so goddamn happy. And do you know what I find out Bonnie? You don’t know me! You look at me like a stranger and leave me at that table with Caroline to go flirt with a fucking bartender. And yeah, I lash out a bit. That’s what I do!”

“So you’re blaming me? For everything that you’ve done? The hurt you caused, the people you killed? You’re laying that at my door now? Because I didn’t know you when I hadn’t even met you yet?”

“Well how was I supposed to know that?”

“Well one, if you’d used your head for one goddamn minute you would connect the dots. You knew I was a time traveler! But you know what, Damon, that doesn’t even matter. Because even if I did know you, and was just blowing you off, you can’t throw a murderous temper tantrum every time your feelings are hurt!”

“So I didn’t figure it out and now I’m just the village idiot to you? Is that it?”

“Are you even listening to yourself? Or to me for that matter?” She yelled. He was so frustrating!

“I could say the same thing! I’m baring my soul here, telling you my entire life has been full of you; of finding you, missing you, loving you. And you’re yelling at me for it!”

Bonnie clenched her fist and took a deep breath in before letting it out slowly. She looked around the empty classroom trying to cool off. Mr. Saltzman’s notes on Nixon’s détente efforts were still on the board. When her eyes came back to rest on Damon he was still vibrating with tension, despite his silence.

“Damon, why are we fighting? Why does any of this matter? I’m here, it’s acknowledged. Now let’s move on.”

The anger sapped from his posture as it had hers and he slumped. The silence stretched for a moment before he broke it.

“Bonnie, I asked your grandfather to make me that necklace for you, before I knew you were a Bennett. I guess when I never picked it up he made sure it got to the right person.”

So that was what he had meant earlier. Bonnie’s grandfather had died in a car crash when Abby was pregnant. Grams had given the necklace to Bonnie in his stead, when she was just an infant. When Bonnie had first taken it out of its constant place in her small jewelry box, Grams had claimed it was proof of the spark of magic her grandfather had held in his own soul. He’d crafted it just for her, without even meeting her.

Bonnie didn’t know how to feel about this revelation on the necklace’s origins. Did it cheapen the gift? Or did the love of two men, one for Bonnie the child and one for Bonnie the woman, strengthen it? Despite her internal confusion, Bonnie was willing to follow Damon’s lead if it meant de-escalation.

“I thought he just made it for me, when my mom was pregnant. I’ve had it since I was a kid.” Damon winced, but extended his hand and ran a finger down one edge of the pendent, careful not to even slightly brush the cloth of her shirt. Bonnie’s chest rose and fell with her breaths three times before his arm fell back to his side.

“Well, it seems like you got the idea. I wanted to give it to you when you got back, as a setting for your stone. A talisman of your own, just like Emily.” He said, with a wry twist of his lips.

It hadn’t been a coincidence then, the glove-like fit of the stone in the pendant’s setting. Damon had held the bloodstone just once, in 1893, but he had memorized its shape perfectly. Enough to describe to a jeweler a century later.

“Well, great minds think alike…so thanks. I’ll try not to possess any of my descendants through it.” Bonnie cringed at her awkwardness, but didn’t know how to alleviate the strained air between them.

“Do you know what the inscription means?”

“Umm, yeah. It’s goodbye in Italian.” Why had that never flagged anything for her? Her grandfather hadn’t known Italian.

“Alla prossima. It means until next time, because that was my wish, Bonnie. Always. A next time. I don’t want to move on and just forget about this.”

“Damon, what about Elena?”

“What about her?”

“I know you kissed her.”

“That was Katherine.” He parried. Like that made a difference.

“Okay, so I know you wanted to kiss her. That doesn’t exactly match up with what you’re saying.”

“Elena’s nice. Good for Stefan. And I was bitter, and bored, and you hated me. For years, basically my whole undead existence once I’d wised up, I have been waiting to come back to this stupid town and unlock the tomb and have you stay. All of that fell apart around me, and I…I don’t function well without a purpose.”

“Damon, I can’t be your purpose, or your morality. And I think you already have Elena for that. She’s told me about your friendship, and how she makes you a better person. You shouldn’t give that up because you think you owe me something.”

“Elena…she helped me. She was my friend when I didn’t really have one. Plus, hanging out with her bothered Stefan. But Bonnie, she doesn’t make me a better person. She can’t. And you’re right, you can’t either. Figuring out who I want to be, and what choices I need to make, that’s something I have to do for myself.” He reached for her hand, swallowing visibly, and she let him take it.

“And I’m trying, I’m working on it, Bonnie, I swear. But I can’t do it alone. I’m not asking for you to be my morality, or my purpose, or anything else like that. But I’d like to be able to ask your advice, to see your face when I’ve done something good, to know that I have a…friend to hug, or dance with, or to finally eat those pancakes with. We’ve been through a lot, and I always felt better knowing there was a chance you’d be at my side again. So maybe, if you want, you could not disappear to a distant future anytime soon, and just stay beside me for a while?”

“What exactly are you asking for?”

“I guess the list wasn’t clear enough,” He joked, but his countenance grew serious again quickly. “Whatever you’re willing to give me right now. I’m not asking for forever, but I’m asking for today. And a chance for tomorrow, and all the tomorrows after that. But just the chance.”

They were standing chest to chest, breath mingling in the small space between them. The air was charged, and the draw magnetic. Bonnie raised herself up on her tip toes, pushing herself closer to him even as Damon stooped downwards. Their foreheads pressed together, and Bonnie held his gaze for a long, nerve-wracking moment before she closed her eyes. She could see too much in his gaze and didn’t know what he could read in hers.

Damon pulled away, but only by a millimeter. Bonnie could feel his breath ghosting across her skin, and when he spoke it was barely more than a whisper.

“Is this okay?” He asked, and Bonnie nodded wordlessly. Yes, this was beyond okay. Yes, she wanted this.

“I need you to tell me. Please, Bonnie, tell me you want this as much as I do.”

All her resolutions to herself fell apart. She’d told herself that she had to let this go, let him go, that it was better to step back and let sleeping dogs lie. But why should she? She didn’t want to be strong and alone anymore. Who was she even being strong for? Why did she have to be alone to be strong at all? She wanted to feel Damon against her and beside her and just maybe in love with her.

“Damon I want this. I want you.”

The kiss was soft, as if Damon didn’t want to startle her into pulling away despite her assurances. Bonnie pressed forward and he took the hint, hunching further and wrapping an arm around her to pull her against his chest. She wound her arms around his neck, and he lifted her off her feet. Their lips turned desperate and searching. Bonnie lost herself in the heat of it, the push and pull of his lips and skin against her own.

Her brain disengaged and her body took over, telling her that she had to get closer, had to make this last. All their other kisses had been cut short by necessity, because of an audience or the impending time travel. But this one could be long and leisurely. She didn’t have to pull away. She deserved this. Bonnie was just on the verge of wrapping her legs around him to match her arms when—

“Damon? Bonnie? What is going on?”

The sound of her friend’s voice cut through Bonnie’s haze of desire. Elena’s hurt face dissipated it entirely.

“Elena! This isn’t—!” Bonnie pulled away from Damon, even as he set her down. On her feet again, she took a step away from him and towards Elena. Elena didn’t pay any attention to the start of Bonnie’s harried denial.

“You made me feel so bad about Stefan, about even thinking about being friends with Damon, and now you’re doing this! And Stefan texted me that Caroline is now a vampire, which you apparently knew!—And…and that the Lockwoods might be another type of threat entirely? Katherine has an invitation into my house, no one knows what she’s even here for except to hurt, and maybe kill, me. And you’re here, together? Doing this? With him?”

Elena had tears in her eyes, and Bonnie’s heart clenched. She’d never meant to betray, or even worry, her friend. But she had.

“Elena, this isn’t anything. Come on, let’s go. I’ll explain everything.”

“Go where? I don’t feel safe anymore. I don’t know where I can go, who I can trust. And no one can even trust me, because it might be someone else wearing my face!”

Bonnie thought about how she’d briefly mistaken Katherine for Elena. She’d have to work on that. They were so different, in poise and personality, that it shouldn’t be impossible. Case in point, Katherine would never display the amount of emotion that Elena was right now.

“I know Elena, I know.” Bonnie had crossed the room to stand with Elena, and she pulled her into a loose hug. Her friend’s few tears were quickly turning to choking sobs. “Let’s go to Grams’s; no vampire has an invitation in, and I’m not planning on changing that anytime soon.”

“Bonnie.” Damon stood where she’d left him, one hand extended towards her, but Bonnie just shook her head. Right now, Elena needed her.

The girls walked out together; the door swinging shut behind them. When they turned down the hallway, Bonnie glanced back once. She could just make out Damon’s dark form through the narrow window into Mr. Saltzman’s classroom. He hadn’t moved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title from: discretion is the better part of valor
> 
> Bonus-- Caroline and Stefan's exit:
> 
> “So that was super weird. Right? I mean Bonnie said there’d been some kissing stuff, but that was some serious romantic tension. Sexual tension I was expecting, but that was…weird.” Caroline said, as she and Stefan exited the school. Stefan was carefully watching her, probably to make sure she wasn’t about to go on a bloody rampage, but Caroline was more concerned by the scene she’d just witnessed. Sexual tension she’d expected, with a dash of obsession from Damon, and a lingering crush from Bonnie. But it had been much more serious than that. 
> 
> “Not that weird. My brother has been in love with Bonnie for at least a century.” Stefan said with a shrug. 
> 
> “What about Katherine? I’m still patchy on some of his monologues, but I do remember her featuring in quite a few.” Caroline really needed to sit down and figure out her memories. Should she start a diary? No, it’d be too confusing, and too Elena-like. Maybe she’d draw out a timeline. That might help.
> 
> “Katherine…you have to understand. To love Katherine was to be consumed by her, at times literally. She was beautiful, and passionate, and utterly enrapturing. But she was never kind. Everything was a game with rules that could change at any moment.”
> 
> “Sounds exciting.”
> 
> “It was. But it was also terrifying. Damon knew more about the supernatural than me, but it was still new to him too, and Katherine would mete out answers only when it please her. And then there was Bonnie, a kind, honest, sane, person in the midst of all that. She knew everything, about vampires, witches, Katherine, our secrets. She knew us. That she was beautiful, and could provide some form of absolution for Damon’s perceived sins, made her even more perfect to Damon. Bonnie was Damon’s port in the storm, and he was only too happy to return the favor in the following years.”
> 
> “Wow. That’s way more intense than I got from Bonnie. I think she glossed over some bits, which she will be answering for later.” Next girls night was going to be a whole weekend, because Caroline had a serious inquisition lined up. 
> 
> “Maybe she doesn’t feel as strongly for him. I was never sure. I can read my brother’s face as well as my own, but Bonnie’s…For a long time I thought Bonnie was like Katherine, playing with him for sport. But that was mostly my own prejudices. I knew they were both felt the same since he proposed. I’ve never seen two people look so in love. Surprised, but in love.”
> 
> “Proposed! What?”
> 
> “Did Bonnie not tell you? Damon proposed on the Titanic. They’ve been engaged for nearly a hundred years.”
> 
> “Damon proposed on the Titanic? Like, got down on one knee, presented a ring, proposed marriage? On the Titanic?” Okay, table everything she hated about Damon. That was the fantasy proposal of Caroline’s dreams. Or one of them anyway. A thought of how unfair it was that Bonnie had received such a proposal and not her wiggled through her mind, but Caroline pushed it away. Bonnie deserved the best, and she’d loved Titanic just as much as Caroline had. Besides, Caroline certainly didn’t want Damon proposing to her. She’d kick him in the face before even he was down on one knee.
> 
> “Yes, at dinner on the ship's last night.”
> 
> “What. The. Fuck. Bonnie left that out. Oh God! I feel so bad now!” 
> 
> “Why? What for?”
> 
> “Well…I wanted a bit of revenge on Damon for, well, everything.”
> 
> “Understandable.”
> 
> “Thank you. But, now I’m regretting it. I texted Elena to meet me in Mr. Saltzman’s room. I just wanted to annoy him, and well, to make him face Elena. But now I might have ruined my best friend’s chance at happiness. Am I a horrible person?”  
> Stefan looked amused. Maybe he thought that the bloodlust should be making her question her humanity, and not her meddling with her friend’s relationship? 
> 
> “I’m sure they’ll work it out. A hundred years is too long for someone to wait if they were going to let a case of bad timing ruin a relationship.”
> 
> Caroline nodded, relieved. She hadn’t ruined anything yet. But she needed to work harder, and she couldn’t just leave everything to Bonnie. Bonnie needed her to be a better friend. Caroline thought of how she’d run away, months ago, when things got a little weird with the magic stuff. When, apparently, Bonnie’s ancestor had possessed her. Bonnie must have been so scared, not in control of her body, and Caroline had just left her. Later, Bonnie had managed to build a relationship with Emily, despite that past terror. Caroline would try to do the same, for Bonnie’s sake.
> 
> “Hey, did Katherine give you a number to reach her at?”


	22. a problem shared

_A person is not a suitcase,  
with a finite number of items to unpack.  
A person is a world.  
—Leah Stewart_

Bonnie and Elena sat across from each other on the bed, a mirror to how they sat all those months ago with a ripped open pillow between them. Now, they were in Bonnie's guest room at Grams's house, with none of the happiness and awe of that day present. The memory of Elena holding Bonnie together just one room over after she'd discovered her grandmother's cooling body was the only thing keeping Bonnie tethered to the bed. She wanted to storm out in frustration, but instead she inhaled a steadying breath. She'd gotten through explaining the entire supernatural world to Caroline earlier in the day, and an emotionally draining confrontation with Damon less than an hour ago. This conversation with Elena should be easier in every way.

"I guess I just don't understand, Bonnie. You tried to erase your memories?" Elena finally said once Bonnie was finished explaining. Because Elena knew Bonnie, and knew how to slice right to the root of the issue. Caroline could be distracted by every shiny new aspect of the supernatural, Damon with feelings and memories and, Bonnie thought guiltily, kisses, but Elena unerringly cut to the quick.

"Not exactly. I wanted to travel back in time and change the past completely, not just my memories of it." Bonnie wanted to cringe as she gave voice to her own arrogance but kept eye contact with Elena. She wanted her friend to understand. "It obviously didn't work out that way. Turns out you can't really change the past, because it would affect the future, which has already happened. Or something like that."

"But why?"

"I don't know, I'm sure some physicist has a theory, but magic certainly—"

"No, Bonnie, you've explained everything that happened. I don't understand the why. Not the science or the magic why, but your why."

"Well, there's a lot of stuff I would have liked to change. Saving Grams for one, and I was feeling guilty about Caroline and Tyler's accident." Bonnie faltered, waiting for Elena to break in with a comment. She was expecting her friend to say something about how the accident _was_ her fault, because she hadn't de-spelled the Device, or maybe to completely ignore that in favor of her wish to save Grams. Surely Elena could understand that? But Elena said nothing, just continued waiting, her face open and ready to empathize.

"When I couldn't heal Caroline…I realized how powerless I really was. I'm just a teenager, but I was acting like I could take on the whole world. I had no idea what I was doing—I barely do now!—but at least I now know what I don't know…if that makes any sense?"

"But you said you wanted to, um, forget magic. Wouldn't that make you even more powerless?"

"Talking about it now is weird. I'm in such a different headspace. I feel like I'm giving myself more motive and logic than I even had at the time. The truth is, I was looking into time magic to save Grams, that's why I had the bloodstone, but I wasn't researching it seriously. But the accident with Caroline, and the fire, and you asking me to save the Salvatores…it twisted something in me. I felt all this pressure to protect the town, to kill the vampires, to save me friends, and it was just too much. I blamed magic for all of it, because it was what caused me to enter the supernatural world at all. It seemed simple, that if I just went back and changed this one thing, everything would be solved. It doesn't really make sense, but I was in a weird state of mind; overwhelmed and alone and set on a solution that wasn't a solution at all."

"But all of that would have happened if you were a witch or not."

"Probably, but like I said, I wasn't thinking straight."

"And without your magic we never would have stayed close; it's what brought us back together." Elena gestured to the empty space between them, evoking the missing down feathers. "And you would have left town. You'd be dooming all of us."

"Okay, doom is a bit of a strong word here. But do you really think that we wouldn't have stayed friends if I wasn't a witch?" Elena's expression twisted. Bonnie thought about Caroline's odd happiness at her violent entrance into the supernatural world, and the reason she gave for it. Now they couldn't shut her out. Was the same true for Bonnie? Was her magic what was holding her and Elena's friendship together?

"No, that's not what I'm saying Bonnie. But the way you're talking about this…well it seems like you would have caused your past self to move away from Mystic Falls."

"Maybe? Honestly, probably, if I could have found a way to encourage it. After Grams died I went to stay with my dad's family for a while. It was a nice change of pace. Peace, without the urgency or the grief. The same can be said of 1864, for the most part, despite everything wrong with Mystic Falls back then."

"Bonnie, I want you to be happy, I really do. But could you have been happy knowing you left all of us defenseless?"

"You wouldn't have been defenseless, both the Salvatores are here. Besides, it wouldn't have been much of a loss. I could hardly do magic before I left. As for regret, I wouldn't have known what I was leaving behind. That was kind of the whole point. I wouldn't be involved in any of the Salvatore drama."

"And you were okay with that? With erasing yourself like that?" Elena's tone was accusatory, and Bonnie bristled.

"I wasn't committing suicide or anything, you don't have to act like I was."

"Weren't you? If you'd managed to change reality, it would have changed all of us. Including you."

Bonnie thought about her fears of erasing Damon, and of the boy that had sparked those fears. How his life had made it seem like a single memory could determine a personality.

"Our memories and experiences make us who we are? Is that what you're saying?"

"Yes."

"So what exactly are you doing to Jeremy when you have Damon erase his memories?"

Elena's mouth opened and closed twice, like she was unsure how to respond, before her eyes began to well with tears.

"Bonnie, what am I doing?" Elena placed her head in her palms, turning her body away from Bonnie. The witch quickly shifted closer to her friend, hugging her awkwardly.

"Just forget I even said that, Elena. It doesn't even matter. That's not how the spell worked out anyway." Bonnie hoped that mentioning the spell again would bring Elena's focus back to her, instead of her familial problems. It worked; Elena now looked more angry than upset.

"Instead you went back to 1864 and hooked up with Damon and replaced me with a murderous clone."

Okay, she loved all of her friends, mostly equally, but they really needed to learn that she could have more than one of them.

"I didn't hook up with Damon! I didn't even kiss him before 1900!" That had been a stronger argument in Bonnie's head. "And I never replaced you, Elena. I became friends with Katherine and Damon, but what would you rather I have done? Risked the woods? Do you know how lucky I was that it was Katherine that found me? And that I managed to convince her to have a spark of interest? Do you know what I would have faced back then without her compulsion? Or do you think I should have tried my luck in the old South, alone and friendless and _black_? I can tell you it wouldn't have been pretty, and not nearly as fun as Caroline's Miss Mystic float."

"Bonnie—"

"Did I mention that Stefan wanted to drag me to the Lockwood plantation? Maybe you think I should have let him?"

"No! Bonnie, never! I'm so glad you're safe. I guess…I'm still just having a hard time wrapping my head around it all. The last time we talked you could barely tolerate even Stefan, and now…"

"Well, botching a spell so badly that you get stuck a century in the past makes you question your own judgement a bit. I did what I did to keep myself safe, Elena, and to get back here without causing any major universe shifts. I took what allies I could get, and I can only be thankful that some of them actually became my friends. The vampires more than proved their worth."

"Was Damon that different? As a human, I mean?" Elena shifted forward, tears forgotten. This was a question she must have been waiting to ask all night. Bonnie could understand the curiosity, mostly. But she hadn't asked after Stefan. Did Elena think Stefan's personality was too good, already too close to human, for him to have changed? Bonnie picked a piece of lint off her comforter, mulling over her phrasing.

"No, he wasn't. To be honest, Damon wasn't different at all. Stefan seemed…worse as a human, or less open minded at least. He hadn't experienced the world or any of his own suffering yet. But Damon was the same. He was still snarky, and had a serious lack of care for the sanctity of human life, but he also loved Stefan so much, even as they fought. It was weird seeing him be human, with human weaknesses, when he was still so himself. After he transitioned he didn't change, didn't metamorphize into some horrific monster, and I finally had to face that they were the same man, and that I liked that man."

"Liked? It looked like a bit more than that." Bonnie had almost forgotten that Elena had walked in on Damon and her kissing. Her friend had been waiting tactfully to bring it up, how kind of her.

"I don't know, Elena. I didn't know that he already knew everything, I thought I'd come back and it would be different. But, he already had lived all that, and he still attacked me, and is still in love with—" Bonnie stopped. Was Damon in love with Katherine or Elena? Or was he being honest back there? Was it possible that he actually loved Bonnie? "I don't know. I just don't know how to act around him anymore. Or really how to act, I almost screamed when my new phone vibrated earlier, I'm not used to everything modern again yet."

Elena laughed. "Well at least the time travel explained some things. Honestly, if I hadn't seen you and Damon kissing I never would have believed it. I thought you were possessed again when I first walked in."

"You thought a ghost possessed me so that they could kiss Damon?"

"I thought it was more likely than you two suddenly getting together. You guys weren't exactly friendly last time I checked. Remember how I had to beg you to save his and Stefan's lives?"

"I didn't want that responsibility. That's kind of what spurred this whole thing in the first place, so yeah, it's pretty memorable."

"But you'll stay right? You'll help protect the town from Katherine?" Elena asked, her earlier anxiety showing through once more. Bonnie paused. Yes, she would protect the town. She would protect Elena. That was not in doubt. But—

Bonnie thought about the sign Grams had printed and hung on her university office door; 'If you are silent about your pain, they'll kill you and say you enjoyed it.' The Zora Neale Hurston quote was allegedly to remind her students that they should ask for help if they needed it before the day term papers were due. Bonnie thought it applied well here. How would Elena know her limits, her wants, her pain, if Bonnie never told her?

And she could see the future in which she stayed silent laid out in front of her. Elena asking her to do things over and over that she didn't want to do, and Bonnie doing them. Because Elena was her friend and she loved her, because Elena was her coven and she needed her.

Bonnie knew that all of the tasks needed of her would add up, and that she might not like the results. She would be stuck in that unenviable and unforgiving place again. Tasked to de-spell a device she didn't want to and forced to betray either her friends or her morals. The irony that the Gilbert Device, the first set of crossroads Bonnie had faced, had represented a similar choice for Emily was not lost on her.

Could Emily just watch the vampires continue to terrorize the town? As they hurt people who couldn't fight back? People who she cared about? The vampires, for all their enforced equality under compulsion, had certainly not been kind or merciful to the slaves in Mystic Falls. There were more of them then there were white masters, and they were easier to make disappear. But if Emily enchanted Jonathan Gilbert's inventions she would doom a member of her coven to a century of desiccation. It was only later, with Damon's bargain and Bonnie's nod of approval, that Emily had found a loophole that allowed her to save the town and Katherine both.

Bonnie wondered at that initial decision. She'd attributed it to jealousy, to annoyance over Pearl and Jonathan Gilbert's flirtation. But Emily was too staid to be that petty, and her infatuation with Jonathan Gilbert hardly rivaled her longing for her husband. Was it something else that had prompted her to act? A realization that her service to Katherine had gone too far? Or had the appearance of Bonnie, a descendent from a hundred and fifty years in the future who appeared to still be beholden to the same vampire, forced her hand?

Bonnie wasn't Emily, and her relationship with either doppelganger hardly reflected Emily's own. But she didn't want to ever face a decision like that again if she could help it. She'd traveled back in time to avoid them, but she had never needed to. She could prevent them right now. The future was hers to shape every day she lived in the present; no time travel necessary

"I'm going to do what I can to help the town, but I still have a lot to learn. And we seriously need to work on our communication. We shouldn't just be making decisions by ourselves about this stuff anymore. We can't have all these cliques or infighting, or people just going off on their own without any warning."

"So what? You think everything can be solved with a groupchat?" Bonnie was pretty sure that forming a groupchat was near the top of Caroline's to-do list, despite Elena's derision.

"It might be a start. At least we'd all know what the problem of the day was."

"Katherine is the problem. Did I tell you that she threatened Stefan? Said he had to break up with me, or she'd kill everyone I loved. I don't know how we're going to take her out."

"Take her out? What are you talking about?"

"Bonnie, I know that you managed to become friends with her in the past, but here? She's evil and trying to kill us just because she wants Stefan back."

"Elena, I don't know what Katherine said to you, or to Stefan, but I doubt he's the reason she's here."

"What do you mean?"

"Katherine has known the Salvatores were vampires this whole time. If she wanted Stefan she could have had him." Bonnie said matter of factly.

"Well, what about John?" Elena shot back.

"She stabbed him before she handed out any ultimatums about your relationship, so that probably has more to do with him working for her then anything else."

"What?"

"Umm, remember him and your birth mom? Weren't they both working for Katherine? She probably stabbed him because he was late on a check-in. Or maybe he didn't inform her about you fully enough. Who knows? The point is, Stefan and Damon hardly matter to her. The only thing that's changed about Mystic Falls is you, Elena"

Me?"

"You don't look exactly like Katherine because she's your ancestor and some freak genetics accident spit you out. You're both doppelgangers, which are basically people made to be sacrificed for a strong spell."

"What?"

"Yeah. And the creepy vampire I mentioned towards the end, Klaus? He tried to sacrifice Katherine when she was still human because he's under some curse, and he'll probably try to do the same to you."

"So Katherine is now working for the guy who tried to kill her? And you don't want to kill her? Are you…on her side now?"

"What? No! I'm not going to let anyone sacrifice you, Elena. And we don't even know ,if she's contacted Klaus yet. I haven't really touched base with her since I realized she was back in town. But I doubt that they're actively working together. Neither of them is the forgiving type." Bonnie said, with a shiver. If Elena thought Katherine was an evil vampire with a grudge, she'd be in for a reality check when she met Klaus.

"But what does that have to do with Stefan? Why would she care about us dating if she's just trying to hand me over to this Clark guy?"

"It's Klaus. Please don't call him Clark again. And I'm not sure about the whole Stefan thing. Maybe she wants him to be out of danger when Klaus comes to collect, but it's just as likely she's bored and wants to cause drama for her own entertainment."

"You don't think she could be telling the truth? That she came back for him because she realized she still loved him?" Elena's eyes shown with worry, and Bonnie realized how nervous the appearance of Stefan's first love had made her. Not because of the supernatural dangers, but because of the relationship ones. It comforted Bonnie that, in the midst of time travel, vampires, and werewolves, Elena was concerned about her own relationship, though she couldn't help the sliver of disbelief.

"I doubt it. Katherine liked Stefan, but she was using him." Bonnie paused, unsure about how much of Katherine's drunken ramblings she should divulge. "I don't think you have anything to worry about on that front, Elena. Stefan's love for you is real, in a way it never was with Katherine. And everyone involved, including her, knows that."

"Thanks, Bonnie. You always know how to make me feel better." Bonnie accepted Elena's words, and her hug, but she couldn't help the judgement she felt. How did Elena feel better just from that? Didn't she remember the bit about human sacrifice and Klaus possibly coming to their disaster-prone town?

"Okay, but Elena, about the curse and the ritual, I want to make sure we're on the same page. We need to find out everything we can about it. Do you think Isobel might have researched it at all? I'm planning on going through Grams's things and I think I remember some promising texts, but Caroline said we should tap all our research sources."

"Caroline? She knows about all of this?" Elena pulled away.

"Of course. I told her everything when I found her transitioning. I wasn't about to explain vampires and time travel but skip the looming threat. A bit counterintuitive."

Elena's hands twisted in her lap, and she bit her lip.

"I get it, I just can't help but be worried. I feel like the more people know, the more danger they're in. And I've already gotten Caroline killed."

"Caroline is a vampire now. You can't have Damon compel away the bad memories or her knowledge of the supernatural." Bonnie said flatly.

"I know. What you said about Jeremy was right, I never should have done that to him. But sometimes I feel like the whole world is on my shoulders, and I am pushing that burden on to you and Stefan, and even Damon. I didn't want that for Jeremy. I don't want that for anyone."

"Katherine killed Caroline, not you, and we have no idea what her motives were. Believe me, I'll be talking with her about it, but you can't shoulder the blame. And I think it's better if we share all of the information we have with each other, and stop erasing anyone's memories from here on out. More heads mean more solutions, right?"

"I guess you're right."

"Good, glad you agree. Because one of the research sources we'll be tapping is Katherine herself, and I need you to be on board, and convince the Salvatores to be too."

"What? How could you even say that, after what she did to Caroline?"

"Well, it was Caroline's idea, and I think it's a good one. She's been reading Sun Tzo, or maybe it was Machiavelli? One of those war strategy books anyway, and she has some serious opinions about how we've approached problems in the past. She thinks we should try to gain more allies, rather than attacking everyone right away, especially if they're stronger than everyone on our team, like Katherine is." Bonnie may have planted that seed, when mentioning her conversation with Damon about Mason, but Caroline had jumped on it. Of course, Caroline had also made sure to point out that Damon was probably jealous of Mason, not worried about him as a town threat.

"So we're just supposed to let people kill us because they're stronger?"

"No, we're just making sure that they actually want to kill us before we attack them. Hopefully, we'll have less enemies to deal with this way, and more information and allies to face our real enemies with when they show up."

The Salvatores hadn't known werewolves existed. They weren't exactly reliable sources on the supernatural.

"I'm pretty sure Katherine has been clear. She's evil and doesn't want to be friends." Bonnie did not roll her eyes, even though she wanted to. They'd already established she was Katherine's friend, and Bonnie wasn't sure what allowed people to be classified as evil in Elena's book. Damon certainly wasn't, even with all the lies and murders, but Uncle John often made the list when his rap sheet was considerably shorter.

"I know, but in the eighties Katherine told me that she planned to gather all of the ingredients to break Klaus' curse, which means she knows way more about this than any of us right now. If I can convince her to help us, or to at least let me know what she knows, we'll be better off than we are now."

"But how could you trust anything she says? And how will you even get in contact with her?"

"Don't worry, I know how to keep Katherine honest. As for how to reach her, she's been texting me all day."

All Bonnie had to do was text her back, and hope that the local liquor store stocked Bulgarian imports. And wasn't IDing.

* * *

Damon was waiting on her front porch. Bonnie stood frozen for a moment, half in and half out of the house, before she stepped outside fully. He sat on the porch swing that never rocked right, looking extremely out of place. This porch was for lazy Sundays in her pajamas, the rare shared crossword with her father, and the much more common gossip and popsicles with Elena and Caroline. Leather clad vampires that she was maybe in love with were not the norm.

"Damon…I wasn't expecting you." Bonnie said, tucking the bottle she'd recently purchased under her arm. She'd only stopped at home to change. Elena and Bonnie had both fallen asleep at Grams's the night before, tangled together in the double bed like they were eleven again. When Bonnie had slipped out earlier, not turning on any of the lights and avoiding actually looking in any of the picture frames, Elena was still sleeping soundly. Bonnie had let Elena sleep; she hadn't wanted to start another argument over Bonnie's decision to meet with Katherine. Who, Bonnie glanced at her phone for the time, was expecting her in twenty minutes.

"I'm not here to…press for anything, don't worry. This will only take a minute."

Bonnie's feelings were a jumble inside of her. Telling her to run from him, before he could run from her. Repeating his plea for her to stay by his side, while reminding her that he would never stay himself, because no one did. Replaying their most recent kiss, before interrupting it with the harsh embrace he'd forced in '97.

At her nod, Damon held out a leather-bound book. Bonnie took it gingerly but didn't open it.

"Damon, I know I hang out with Elena and Stefan, but diaries really aren't my thing. I don't even keep a school planner."

"Pff, I'm offended you think I would gift you an empty diary. I am not my brother." He said with a smile. He seemed determined to act nonchalant, and to ignore the tension stemming from the night before. His requests and her abandonment. "This is from a mutual acquaintance of ours. I guess those spirit pals of hers told her what was up, and she started this for you."

"Ruthie?" Bonnie breathed as she started flipping through the full pages. Early on, Sebastian and Damon's names appeared regularly in a young child's chicken scratch. Later, as the script flowed in a more mature hand, other names joined theirs. Samantha, Rosalie, Nathanial, and then, on a page filled with a joyful rushed scrawl: Damia. The book held many more pages than should be possible for the slim volume. They continued on and on in a fan of cramped words. Magic. As the pages turned, Bonnie could almost catch the scent of goldenrod. Ruthie must have pressed some between the pages, like Emily used to in her Grimoire.

"She really got into it when she got older, after I'd confirmed I'd seen you a second time. She wanted you to know how it all worked out, I guess. When I last saw her, she asked me to give this to you. And she wanted me to thank you for her."

"What for?"

"She said you were the first person who taught her that she could put out her own fires."

Bonnie reached the last page, and her eyes caught on her own name, there in the middle of the page.

_You must forgive an old woman, Bonnie, we want to be memorialized as wise and steady even as we dream of our whimsical youth. I have the unique opportunity with you of being remembered—long past my own time—for both._

Bonnie stopped before she read the last goodbyes, written in a shaky hand. She swallowed past the lump in her throat.

"Thank you for bringing this to me."

Damon shrugged like it wasn't a big deal. But it was.

Bonnie blinked past the tears in her eyes. "Have you read it?"

"No need, I was there for most of it, definitely all the good bits anyway. Wait till you get to her wedding. People still talk about it in Philadelphia to this day, I swear."

"I'm looking forward to it." She said, with a tremulous smile. It was odd to think about Ruthie as an old woman. Bonnie held the book to her chest, pressing it tight to her heart.

"She lived a long time?"

"Longer than she ever expected with some of the things she got up to, that's for sure."

"And she was happy?"

He nodded. "For most of her life at least, not that there weren't rough times. But there always are. For her, I think the good outweighed the bad. I was with her at the end. She was still full of joy, like she was still that little kid in Virginia. She went surrounded by family and friends, and who knows who else was there that I couldn't see."

"I'm glad you were there." Bonnie hesitated, trying to place Ruthie's passing in her mental timeline. Just how old was she when she died? Had she lived to see Damon turn off his switch? "Were you…you?"

"Yes, this was before that. She never saw me…" Damon hesitated before settling on a word, "empty."

"Oh. Good." Bonnie said. The silence stretched between them, but she wasn't sure how she should break it. She glanced at the front door. She'd closed it behind her out of habit. Had that seemed purposeful? Or cruel?

"Bonnie, did you really have no control over where you went?' He asked abruptly. Bonnie blinked at the non sequitur.

"In time? On my way back?" Bonnie asked. Damon nodded in confirmation. "I had no control, Damon. I never knew where or when I would end up, or how long I would have there." She'd come up with a theory, that the length of each trip depended on how far she was from Mystic Falls, which would explain why her sojourn on the Titanic had lasted so long compared to her quick stop in 1997, but nothing concrete or rational on why she ended up there in the first place. Besides, well, him.

"I guess I thought that, well that maybe it wasn't a coincidence that you always ended up near where I was."

It wasn't a coincidence, Bonnie thought. Seven trips was six too many for her to still believe that.

"But then…the stuff that I was talking about yesterday. Bonnie, it wasn't on a whim that I flipped my switch. I was captured by some radical vampire hunters. They tortured me for years, experimenting on me to see the limits of a vampire's abilities."

"Oh my god." Bonnie said. She didn't know what to say, how to comfort him, but Damon just continued talking.

"The last time I had seen you was more than a decade before, so I kept hoping at you would appear in front of me; that you'd burn the whole place to the ground around me. Waiting more than hoping really. Torture makes one a bit delusional, so I didn't doubt until the very end that you would come; the inevitable rescue from my avenging angel. But you never came. And Stefan never came. So I had to burn it down myself."

"Damon, I'm so sorry. I wish…I wish I could have been there."

"Me too, Bonnie. Me too."

"If I'd had a choice I would have been there. I swear it" She reached out and lay a hand on his arm. Should she hug him? Would he want a hug from her? Maybe a cup of tea would be better? Before she could decide, Damon took a step back, out from under her hand. Bonnie's arm fell back to her side.

"To free myself I had to not care about who I was leaving behind, who I was condemning with my escape, but it also freed me from everyone who had left me behind, and the care I had held onto. It was a burden I'd never thought I could shed. My mother, my father, Stefan, Katherine, Ruth. You. The unwilling and the willing abandonments. I'd never realized how much each loss had weighed me down. It was nice not to care."

Bonnie's phone buzzed, and while she ignored it, the sound broke Damon from his musings.

"I know it doesn't really matter, that it doesn't change what I did while my switch was off, but I wanted you to know."

"I'm really glad you told me, and—" I want to talk more, she meant to finish. Or maybe, I'm here for you whenever you need. Or, I'm sorry I wasn't there. Or she could have said, please come inside. Or, if she was really feeling truthful, I love you.

But Bonnie didn't say any of those things. Instead, annoyed at the continual buzzing of her phone, she said "wait one second." And pulled out her phone to turn it off.

She just caught the most recent text (u cant runneth off on me BB! dont b a vazey bitch) filled with poor grammar and old-timey slang, before Katherine's name filled the entire screen. She was calling, again. Bonnie rejected the call and silenced her phone.

"I'm sorry about that. Like I was saying—"

"You two are talking?" He asked. He looked angry, but unsurprised. He'd surely realized by now that Bonnie knew that Katherine was never in the tomb the whole time. Was he upset about that, or the threat Katherine posed to Elena?

"Yeah. I'm supposed to be meeting her, in," Bonnie glanced at her phone for the time, "well, right now actually."

"I wouldn't want to keep you from an important meeting." He said, face hard.

Bonnie hesitated. She could cancel on Katherine to placate Damon, or she could walk away from Damon to meet Katherine. For a moment she remained stuck, before her indecision resolved itself. She wanted to stay with Damon, to hear more about the long stretches of time she'd missed, the life he'd lived in between visits, all the joys and tragedies.

But she could trust Damon to be left alone. And right now, she couldn't say the same for Katherine.

"I know you're not the biggest fan of her right now, but we need to know what she knows. There's a lot more to the story, and we don't have much to lose by hearing her out."

"How about our sanity?"

Bonnie snorted. "I think it's my sobriety more at risk with this meeting," she said, hefting the bottle of rakia so that he could see its label. "and I don't know how well any of us would pass a psych eval, even without Katherine in the mix."

Damon's face lost it's angry cast as he laughed at her weak joke. Bonnie bit her lip. He looked younger when he laughed. Less burdened.

"Listen, why don't you talk to Elena? I went over a lot of this with her already," and since she'd given Elena a condensed and sympathetic version of Katherine's story, the doppelganger might be able to talk him around. "and if you have any concerns I'm happy to hear them out. After I talk to Katherine."

He nodded, "Okay. I don't like it, but okay."

"Alright." Bonnie said with a smile, before heading towards the stairs. Hopefully, Katherine hadn't killed another one of her friends because Bonnie wasn't picking up the phone.

Before Bonnie could start down the steps, she turned and darted back.

"Thank you, for telling me, Damon." She said and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek before dashing to her car. Friends did that, right? It was a normal platonic thing to do when saying goodbye.

Bonnie unlocked her car and tried not to regret sending him to Elena. It was a good idea. Elena and Damon had a solid friendship, possibly more on his side, and he trusted her judgement. Plus, Elena had a line with Stefan too. Hopefully Elena would be able to use her healing heart to bridge the gap between Katherine and the Salvatores. Bonnie very carefully did not consider what other bridges could be built on that trust.

Before opening the door, Bonnie turned back to Damon. He was leaning on the porch railing, watching her. No need to rush when you had superspeed.

"Also, Damon?" She called.

"Yeah?"

She held up the journal he'd given her.

"You can read this whenever you want to okay? She was your family too."

He nodded once, and Bonnie managed half a smile. Maybe they could read some of it together, if he was willing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title from: a problem shared is a problem halved
> 
> Hope everyone is enjoying! This fic is now over 100k which is not something I ever thought I would manage! Thanks for all the support :)
> 
> If you have a minute, drop a comment with a suggestion for a tag on this fic. From the previous comments, I feel like Angst is warranted, but I've never been good at tagging. Serious/funny answers will both me appreciated!


	23. a bird in hand

_I speak into the silence.  
I toss the stone of my story into a vast crevice;  
measure the emptiness by its small sound.  
—Carmen Maria Machado_

The text Bonnie had managed to type out before pulling away from her house should have appeased Katherine, but it seemed to do the opposite. She could hardly use the GPS on her phone, as the display was continually being lit up by text after text from the vampire.

Following a particularly long string of emojis in the same message as an equally long string of insults, Bonnie gave up. She might not know what an otiose was, or how to pronounce it, but considering it was nestled between cowardly and late, she did not think it was complimentary. Also, she'd missed the exit. With a scowl, Bonnie turned off the GPS and tossed her phone in the backseat. Katherine could buzz at her from back there and suffer Bonnie's lateness as her own fault.

Eventually, with only a little more meandering than necessary, Bonnie made it to their meeting spot. The address was to a bed and breakfast on the edge of town, which hardly seemed Katherine's style, but the clerk had handed over a room key easily enough after Bonnie gave the vampire's name. Bonnie had knocked, but Katherine's lazy "come in" apparently hadn't meant she was actually ready for company. The vampire was sprawled across the unmade bed, stripped down to her bra and underwear, and didn't look like she planned on moving anytime soon.

"Oh, good, Bonnie, you're here. Would you mind handing me my drink?" Katherine gestured to the half-full champagne glass on the bedside table. Bonnie looked between the loosely pointed finger, and the drink that was less than a foot away. She pointedly did not look at any of her friend's other assets. Either Katherine was actually comfortable lounging around in lingerie, or she was trying to provoke Bonnie into reacting. Both were possible, but Bonnie didn't want to give Katherine the satisfaction either way, so she didn't draw any attention to it.

"I think you can manage on your own." Katherine pouted dramatically at Bonnie's deadpan refusal to wait on her.

"Oh Bonnie, why are you no fun? Present-day blues got you down?"

"I think it may have more to do with you murdering my best friend, Katherine."

"Hmm, that's funny. I don't remember committing suicide."

"Remember how you said I was your best friend because I was your only friend? Not an affliction I share. And, just an FYI, I don't stay friends with people who kill my friends!"

"I like how you've admitted you can deal with people who kill people, as long as you don't like their victims. I think this shows some real growth for you."

"Katherine! Be serious!" Bonnie tossed a shirt that lay across a nearby armchair at the vampire. She continued to ignore exactly what the rumpled sheets and scattered clothing suggested. And that the t-shirt she'd just thrown was about five sizes to big to be Katherine's own. Katherine would never be considerate enough to clean her room before she had company over, even if it was to erase the signs of a recent tryst. "What is wrong with you?"

"So, so many things. Is it time for our quarter-century therapy session? I'm glad you brought liquor because we've about cleared Mrs. Flowers out."

Bonnie didn't relinquish the bottle. "Seriously, what do you think you're doing? Showing up and threatening Stefan and Elena? I know you don't care about their relationship. We worked through that thirty years ago. And killing Caroline? That's a step too far, even for you."

"It's not like I really killed her, she perked right up. And I didn't even have to give her any beginner's lessons; she was feeding and compelling at barely an hour old. Honestly, a prodigy. We'll have to keep an eye on her as she gets older, no telling what kind of unsavory types she could attract."

"Stop acting like you're her mom; you murdered her!"

"Oh don't act like you're such a goody-goody yourself. I know you have blood on your hands, and not just from the undead either. Besides, a sire is like a parent in a way. Feed them, teach them, don't fuck them." She counted off on her fingers. "See? I'm practically a parenting guidebook. Besides, you should be proud of me for even thinking about taking responsibility for the baby vamp."

Bonnie could have screamed, but instead she fed her frustration into an aneurism in Katherine's brain. Katherine rolled over onto her back, pulled on the shirt, and propped herself up on her elbows, but didn't show even a single twitch of discomfort.

"I've been around a long time Bonnie. You're gonna have to do better than that."

"Don't worry, I will." Bonnie extended a hand, and Katherine fell out of her carefully cultivated pose. Bonnie pinned the vampire in place on the bed, letting her struggle in vain against Bonnie's magic. She could see Katherine's muscles straining, but she didn't allow her an inch.

"Did you really think that Emily would leave me helpless against you? Or that in a century and a half the Bennetts would never create any spell strong enough to take on the great Katherine Pierce? I'll let you in on a secret, since we're such great friends after all, you're hardly the biggest fish we've gone after, and if you cross me, you'll regret it."

Bonnie caught the hint of a smirk at the edges of Katherine's lips, as if the vampire wanted to laugh. A laugh in derision or in pride? Bonnie didn't want either. She latched on to the blood in Katherine's veins, slowly drawing it out, so that the vampire would feel the start of the gradual desecration process. She would know how it would have felt if she'd been stuck in that tomb. Bonnie meant to hold it for a minute, just to scare Katherine, but only got a second before a powerful wave of magic hit her, forcing Bonnie back and breaking her spell.

Another witch stood in the doorway, ready to leap forward and protect Katherine at a moment's notice. Bonnie glared.

"Who are you?" Bonnie demanded. The other witch didn't answer Bonnie, but Katherine sat up.

"Remember that surprise I mentioned?" Katherine croaked, "here she is." The two witches sized each other up, but neither spoke as Katherine snagged the champagne glass and downed the contents. "Bonnie this is Lucy, Lucy this is Bonnie."

Lucy spoke first.

"I thought you said Bonnie was your friend."

"She is."

"Funny way of showing it."

"Let it go, Lucy. It's alright. We're all friends here. Sometimes Bonnie just likes to bite a bit to show affection, which I can certainly relate to. Besides, I did kind of have it coming. Let me savor this moment though; as soon as I share the next bit you'll be picking her side over mine."

"Why?"

"Let's try this again. Bonnie this is Lucy Bennett, Lucy this is Bonnie Bennett."

Lucy immediately relaxed and stepped further into the room. Bonnie wasn't so hasty, but she sank carefully into the empty armchair after seeing that the room's other occupants weren't going to attack her anytime soon.

"I don't understand. Wasn't she supposed to offer a truce?" Lucy directed her words at Katherine, who shrugged.

"Truce, or pin me to the bed and threaten me? Not exactly shocked either way. I've gotten used to how you Bennetts are in the bedroom." She winked at Lucy, who laughed.

"Why would you think I was here to offer a truce?" Bonnie interrupted.

"Bonnie, just because I can't get into houses without an invitation, doesn't mean I can't listen from outside of them."

"You were listening outside my window? Creepy."

"Well since you oh-so-helpfully swooped in for Caroline in her time of vulnerability, I can't threaten her for information, so now I have to do the legwork myself."

"Wow, the caring tone there really sold it. But you having to do your own legwork? How dreadful."

"It is, Bonnie, it is. At least as dreadful as your inability to follow through on your peace plan."

Bonnie fiddled with her necklace. The golden setting securely held the last piece of the bloodstone, and dangling on the gold chain next to it was the dual-pearl ring. Now that she knew the necklace's true origins, she didn't feel guilty stringing Damon's first gift on the same thread.

"Negotiating has never been my strong suit." Bonnie said with a shrug. Katherine actually laughed.

"No, you and Damon are alike in that way. You let your emotions carry you away. Though when you actually should let your emotions lead you're weighed down by martyrdom."

"I'm hardly a martyr."

"Well certainly not for anything important."

"What are you talking about?"

"The walls have ears, Bonnie, remember? I know all about how you're going to lay your feelings aside so that Damon can relentlessly pursue my dull as dishwater doppelganger."

"Katherine, are we really going to talk about this now?"

Sensing the tension in the room, Lucy interrupted.

"How about lunch? I can order a pizza?" She asked leadingly, but neither Katherine nor Bonnie responded, choosing to continue their stare down. "Okay, then. I can see you have some things to talk over alone. I'll give you a few minutes." She bent and pressed a quick kiss to Katherine's lips. Bonnie could see that Katherine tried to deepen it, to hold Lucy there, but the witch pushed her away with a laugh. "Don't kill each other while I'm gone! And don't open that bottle until I'm back; it is way too strong to drink on an empty stomach."

Lucy waved as she left, seemingly amused by their confrontation. To leave them alone, she must have trusted Bonnie enough by her name, and Katherine enough by their…relationship to believe they wouldn't do any serious harm to each other without her there to prevent injuries. Bonnie eyed Katherine on the bed, who sported swollen lips and a challenging stare, and doubted the other Bennett's decision. Knowing Katherine had seduced her relative hadn't exactly improved her standing in Bonnie's good books.

Bonnie couldn't judge Lucy for sleeping with a vampire, considering her own feelings for Damon, but she would have hoped any cousin of hers would have better taste. Katherine was hardly someone to take home to your family.

"You can put your judgmental face away; we're just friends." Katherine said, like Bonnie hadn't just seen their lip lock.

"Really, friends?" she answered with a raised eyebrow.

"Okay, yes. The type of friends who sleep together when we're in the same city. There's nothing wrong with that. Not all of us could remain chaste for a century and a half."

"It was a week for me! A week!" Bonnie exclaimed. Katherine tutted in response.

"I'll give you that a week is better than a century, but Bonnie, come on. All the self-denial is not healthy. You know what you want. Reach out, take it!"

"I'm not here to get relationship advice from you."

"Well you brought rakia, despite you hating it. I assumed it was your turn to unburden your heart. Was that not the plan?"

"No, this is, you know, a peace offering."

"It goes well with the attack. Really lets me know you're committed."

"Can I remind you that you _killed_ my friend? Not exactly a good opening on your end either."

"Oh please, you're going to forgive me if you're trying to convince me to be friends and work with you against Klaus."

"We don't have to be friends; allies would be enough. And requires no forgiveness."

"Allies? Don't kid yourself, Bonnie. You could never work with someone just as an ally. You're all or nothing, all the time."

"So you think I should just forgive you because I need you? Friends are supposed to be more than a transaction, Katherine."

"No, you should get over your issue because you need me _and_ because you like me."

"Maybe. But I can't trust you, Katherine. Not after what you did to Caroline."

"Can you stop using Caroline as an excuse? She's already over it. We're texting right now."

"What? How did you even get her number?"

Katherine shrugged. "I didn't. She texted me." She tossed her unlocked phone towards Bonnie, who picked it up off the bed. Katherine had left her conversation with Caroline open. It began with Caroline's usual paragraph of an introduction, to which Katherine had responded with—

"This is just three addresses and a link to a metal plated bra." Bonnie said flatly.

"Yes, to block stakes! Doesn't this show I'm caring?"

"This barely covers the model's nipples. I'm pretty sure you could get a stake past it."

Katherine shrugged. "I didn't want to send her something ugly. It may need a bit of modification to actually protect her, but you can't tell your children everything. Some things have to be learned the hard way."

"A stake through the heart is not one of those things."

"Ugh fine. I'll text her a disclaimer. And I think there's still a traditional armorer in New York. I'll send Caroline her number."

"Why would she even need an armorer? Stakes barely came up in my supernatural overview. For some reason she was more worried about pillows and evil clones, imagine that."

"Some newborns are paranoid; I'm trying to be considerate here, Bonnie." Katherine said, ignoring the latter half of Bonnie's statement entirely. The witch huffed but decided to let it go. For now.

"And the addresses?"

"The three closest Red Cross blood distribution centers to Mystic Falls. I even included the password to their computer system, so she can figure out which blood is being discarded. Waste not, want not."

"That is actually…really nice of you, Katherine."

"Can't have her blowing our cover. Besides, if I didn't intervene she might end up following in Stefan's footsteps and that," Katherine gave a dramatic shudder, "is just unnatural."

The disturbed look on her face was so genuine, so sincerely unsettled by Stefan's dietary choices, that Bonnie couldn't help the snort of a laugh that escaped her.

The corner of Katherine's lips quirked in response, and it was at this moment that Lucy re-entered the room. Despite her earlier exit statement, she didn't have any pizza. Instead, she'd acquired a plate of sandwiches and a bottle of wine.

"Looks like you two worked it out." Lucy said.

Bonnie started to shake her head, started to say that absolutely nothing had been worked out because Katherine had killed her friend and shown no remorse or any plan for repentance. But was Bonnie angry about that, or was she angry because of how clearly she could still see Damon's face when he saw Katherine's name come across her phone? The hurt and stark betrayal in his eyes, before they were quickly buried under anger and he'd backed away from her?

Caroline was ready to forget and forgive, already embracing immortality and her new opportunities. She'd taken to the supernatural world like a duck to water and was ready to start anew with Katherine despite the other vampire's very active role in her own death. If she could do that, Bonnie could hardly carry on the grudge herself. But if Bonnie couldn't hold that against Katherine, what was left except Katherine's betrayal of the Salvatore brothers, of Damon? And that was hardly supportable, it was like getting angry at a scorpion for stinging. No, her anger was not at Katherine for acting as her nature dictated.

Because as Bonnie looked at Katherine, still lounging on the bed, and Lucy, her newfound family standing in the door, she could admit that it wasn't Katherine she was angry with at all. Bonnie was angry with herself. Angry that she'd never told Damon the truth. Angry that she'd backed away from every opportunity she had to do so, because she was protecting her heart from a future that was her past. Angry that, in her very fear of it, she'd created that future. And she was angry that now, with all the cards on the table, she was so scared of rejection that she'd run away from Damon, twice, instead of facing her own feelings for him. _Reach out, take it_ Katherine said. As if it were easy.

"Yeah," Bonnie said. She crossed the room and plucked a sandwich off the top of the pile. Turkey. "We worked it out."

Bonnie sat down on the edge of the bed. Katherine leaned over to nudge her arm. Katherine was confused, that much was clear, but she wasn't asking any questions about Bonnie's change of heart. No, Katherine Pierce was not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. She'd take Bonnie's forgiveness and friendship without ever inquiring after them in earnest. The furthest she'd go was this nudge, this one look. Bonnie shook her head. She didn't want her internal confusion out there for anyone to see. She had to sort through it on her own first.

"All that's left to decide is whether we're opening the rakia or the wine first. Opinions?" Katherine said easily.

"It's not even noon." Bonnie protested.

Lucy laughed as Katherine rolled her eyes dramatically. "Fine, we'll wait the," Katherine checked the bedside table clock with an exaggerated motion, "thirteen minutes left until twelve so that you won't feel guilty about drinking. That means you're up Lucy. Budge up Bonnie, make room."

"Great, let me just grab my notes." Lucy put down the plate of sandwiches and started digging through one of the suitcases lying open around the room.

Bonnie gingerly moved further onto the bed, as Katherine sat up and fluffed a few pillows to lean on. Bonnie sat on top of the rumpled covers and did not move a thing. She didn't want to know if there was anything hidden in the sheets.

"What is she getting notes on?"

"My surprise, remember? That's how you start peace negotiations, Bonnie, with a gift. I know you tried, but mine is much better than a bottle of alcohol. Just look at her."

"You brought me a cousin as a peace offering?"

"No, I brought you the research of your cousin. Lucy studies magical phenomena, and she's something of a scholar on you."

"Me? But how?"

Lucy emerged from her luggage victorious, clutching a folder bulging with loose papers.

"Found them!" She said and spilled the folder's contents across the bed as she took a seat as well.

With the three of them cross-legged on the bed, it felt a bit like an odd sleepover. Except instead of Tiger Beat magazines and notebook pages full of MASH fortunes, the bed was covered in old photos, scans of diaries, footnoted essays, and a timeline scotch taped together.

"Everywhere you went," Lucy started, "you left behind a ripple. Think of it like a magical footprint, but, well, a lot bigger than a footprint. Witches could feel it, and early research was primarily tracking grimoire and journal mentions on the days of your appearances. It was later linked to Damon Salvatore, but through some," Lucy paused, lips pursed, "less than savory means in the fifties, it was determined that the vampire was not the source of the phenomenon."

Bonnie shivered. Damon had said his captors were vampire hunters, or something like them. Bonnie had pictured them as an old-timey founder's council, with a few evil white lab coats thrown in. But Lucy was suggesting that it wasn't just sadistically curious humans involved in the experiments Damon had suffered under. Had those years, that horror he'd endured as he hoped for her rescue, been her fault too?

Lucy took her silence as acceptance, and continued her explanation.

"I was the one who started looking into the Bennett connection, because I knew that Damon Salvatore had been charged with protecting our line. It made sense that he would be present for something like this, even when he wasn't the cause."

"Hurry up, she doesn't need the literature review Lucy, get to the magic explanation." Katherine interjected. Bonnie found herself agreeing.

"Yes, Katherine told me Emily said something about Expression?"

Lucy nodded. "Katherine told me that as well, and it helped me pin down what Emily did, but it's not Expression. I see why Emily would have used that branch of magic when trying to explain this though. Are you familiar with it?"

Bonnie shook her head.

"Thank Nature for that. It's hard to come back from. Expression requires a very specific sacrifice to be undertaken with purpose and without remorse. Once these three sacrifices are carried out, the triangle tears a hole in Nature itself, allowing the witch at the center near limitless power. But it also tears at the soul of that witch. It has to, or the wielder could never tap into the power, their own soul would hold them back. The power; that's the give. But there's a take too, and it's not just a little hole in the soul. Witches who use Expression nearly always lose themselves; they no longer have bonds to nature, their covens, or themselves to hold them back from completely cannibalizing their own magic and soul accidentally."

"And this is…not that? Right?" Bonnie certainly didn't feel like she'd lost her soul, not that she knew what that would feel like. But her bonds to her coven, the bonds she hadn't even been aware she'd forged before her trip, were stronger than ever. Even the one that ran between Bonnie and Katherine.

Lucy shook her head. "The spell that Emily started, and you continued on your way back here, is the opposite of Expression. You weren't the cause of any of the tragedies you visited, but none of them were accidents. Murders, massacres, even the club fire was caused by a human valuing a few bucks over the safety of others."

"So I _was_ supposed to stop them? Sometimes I never even got the chance to try."

"No, Bonnie, you weren't there to stop them. You were there to mourn them. You were acting as a human anchor, not just for the tomb spell, but for Nature. You acted as a focus for the grief at each act. It fed the bloodstone, you can probably still feel that power in your talisman now, but it also helped mend Nature after each heinous event. You're now bound to Nature more closely than ever. Like I said, the very opposite of Expression. A circle, instead of a triangle if you will."

"How poetic."

"No need to snark at things you don't understand, Katherine."

"But I do it so well!"

"Yeah you do, and I love sarcasm, but maybe pipe down for now."

"So quick to cast me aside now that your thesis subject is here, huh?"

"Come on, Katherine." Lucy groaned exasperatedly and Katherine tossed her hair but let up.

Bonnie took her chance to interpose.

"When Emily and I performed the tomb spell, we tied it to her bloodstone, the one from 1864. Are you telling me that we also tied it to me?"

"Most likely. Emily didn't exactly take notes about that night, didn't have the time, but that's what makes the most sense."

"But what about Damon? Why was he always there, if it was the events that were bringing me to each point in time?" And why, when he needed her to come, had she overshot him by three decades?

"The Damon Salvatore factor is a bit more complicated. You were bound as coven members, as you were with Katherine and Stefan, so your magic deemed him a good constant, a safe harbor so to speak."

"Because of the witch's oath he swore to Emily?"

"That was my original theory, but since she broke her word before you travelled back in time, that actually wouldn't protect you. It wasn't any witch's oath; it was just you. You had three options to act as your constant, Stefan, Katherine, or Damon. You must have felt the safest with him, and your magic did the rest."

"And don't think I'm not offended Bonnie!" Katherine interjected, but Bonnie ignored her.

"So I wasn't there because of him? He was at each disaster because of me?"

And in the fifties there'd been no one to grieve him. Bonnie's own pain the day her mother left must have drawn her to Mystic Falls in the nineties, but Damon had been tortured without anyone but the torturers knowing. Whoever had done that to him had not felt any grief over the fact. There had been nothing for Bonnie, for the bloodstone, the tomb, or Nature, to focus. Just cold calculation and Damon's unending agony.

Lucy nodded. "Nature has a way of making things fit."

"It was me the whole time. That makes sense. He never really had a choice." Bonnie had mostly been talking to herself, but Katherine had never met a conversation she wouldn't barge into.

"I'm going to stop you right there. Now usually I would be pushing you for self-sacrifice, because it's a useful trait for my friends to have. But Bonnie, this is ridiculous, and more importantly, it doesn't benefit me at all."

"Wow."

"You, more than anyone, knew what you were signing up for when you became my friend. Now, Bonnie, listen to me. You are the main character of your own life. No one has to live with your choices but you, so you might as well go after what you want. Think about it; what do you want?"

"Well…I…"

"Bonnie, the relationship you and Damon have, it doesn't come around every day, or even every decade. It's rare, but it is not infallible. It takes work, from both people. Right now, Damon is the only one holding it together, and he won't be able to forever. You don't even know how fragile it is right now. Believe me, I've lost the same chance you're giving up. Bonnie, don't throw this away."

"Katherine…" Bonnie began, unsure how to ask for more. Behind Katherine's blasé façade was a real person, with feelings, despite what the vampire would have others believe most of the time. Her friend had five hundred years of life behind her, more than Bonnie could even wrap her head around. Who was it, in all of those lifetimes, that Katherine regretted letting go? Could she have been telling the truth? Was it Stefan? Was it Klaus's brother, the original she'd modeled Stefan after? Or some other person, someone Katherine had met in the intervening years, met, loved and lost, without Bonnie ever being the wiser?

"Whatever, think about it, okay? I can't handle any more feelings or lessons today, and I'm horny anyway; I'm going to go find Mason."

"Mason Lockwood?" Bonnie asked automatically. "But I thought…aren't you two," She stumbled as she realized it was none of her business, and that, actually, she really did not want to know. "sharing this room?" She finished lamely, desperate to brush this all under the rug and move on.

"A witch, a werewolf, and a vampire, and there was only one bed!" Katherine's faux shock was punctuated with a hand over her mouth as it opened in an exaggerated gasp. "Whatever would they do?" She laughed at Bonnie's surprise, and actually leaned over to ruffle Bonnie's hair. "You're too cute. I'm almost jealous of Damon for all the fun you two will have."

Before Bonnie could take offense, the vampire was off the bed and squeezing herself into a pair of dark skinny jeans. After a few hops, she buttoned them up and grabbed a jacket. She stooped to give Lucy a deep kiss before bouncing out of the room.

"Don't forget to explain the ritual for me too! Thanks, I'll owe you one, but also not really! Bye!" Katherine's voice grew distant as she descended the stairs. Lucy sighed in exasperation and Bonnie shifted awkwardly.

"So, the three of you…?"

"Yes, but that's not important."

"I know we just met, but you're my family, Lucy. I don't want you to get hurt. Katherine, she's—"

"You don't have to warn me about Katherine. This is just a bit of fun, I know not to get emotionally involved, and I'm not."

"You're sure?" Bonnie asked, remembering her own assurances to Stefan the night of the first founder's ball.

"Both Katherine and I are sleeping with Mason Lockwood, that's true. But we plan to sacrifice him as part of the ritual that breaks Klaus's curse. I'm very sure I'm not emotionally involved." Lucy shared in a remarkably even tone.

"What?" Bonnie exclaimed. She definitely needed to get to know her family more. And maybe stop trusting her witchy-spidey-senses so much.

Lucy held up a pacifying hand.

"I think I should start from the beginning."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title from: a bird in hand is worth two in the bush
> 
> Was Mason/Katherine/Lucy not the casual triad you were expecting to uncover with this fic? Tbh, me neither. I was a Mason/Jenna shipper, before season 2 put them both in the ground. But Katherine decided that having two beautiful people as her minions meant having two fuck buddies. Also? Juggling two partners, when a) they both know about each other and b) neither of them can be compelled to forget your transgressions? That's Katherine's love triangle game on Hard Mode. She's got to keep herself amused somehow!
> 
> Bonus—Caroline’s introductory text to Katherine:  
> Hi! This is Caroline Forbes. We met yesterday at the hospital. Well, met might be too weak of a word. But Bonnie told me a lot about you and I’m sure you’d have some great advice for me! Would you be interested in getting coffee anytime soon? Standard non-agression pact would obviously apply. Thanks! Let me know!
> 
> Check out new endnote of Chapter 21 for more Caroline content (and find out why Elena interrupted Damon and Bonnie)


	24. to forgive, divine

_The sea is dangerous and its storms terrible,  
but these obstacles have never been  
sufficient reason to remain ashore.  
—Ferdinand Magellan_

Bonnie stood in the small entryway, amazed she'd even made it past the door. Talking to Grams, seeing her alive and vibrant after months of growing accustomed to her death, made her grandmother's empty home more unsettling, wrong. Bringing Elena here had been a decision she'd landed on without thought, an instinctive choice made as she had searched for a safe place. Safe from vampires, and safe from her feelings. But without Elena to distract her, every photo leaped from its frame, every knick-knack and book called her name, every room swelled with memory.

She had wandered through the house in the days after Grams had died. Her father had come home to help arrange the funeral, and he'd suggested that she start packing away Grams's things so that they could put the house up for sale. He hadn't pushed, and he'd soon left on business, so Bonnie hadn't boxed up even a single book. Everything had remained in place, and the house remained off the market. Instead of her grandmother's things, it had been who left. She'd been chased out of town by her friends' pitying looks and her father's uncharacteristic concern.

Now, Bonnie walked up the stairs to her Grams's office and pushed open the door. This room, more than any other, held her grandmother's spirit. It is where Sheila had planned her lessons, done her research, and called her friends. It was in this room that she'd first told Bonnie that she was a witch. Bonnie took a moment to breathe in the scent of old books. She stroked the woven tapestry that hung on the wall, feeling each individual thread. She tapped each candle on the middle bookshelf, five among the many that were dotted around the room. Her grandmother had attempted chandlery for a few years, before giving it up and passing all her tools onto an semi-interested grad student. Amused at the memory of her grandmother's hobby hopping, Bonnie turned away and finally took a seat in Grams's creaky leather chair.

Waiting on Grams's desk, a framed photo stood, angled to face the chair so that Grams would have seen it every time she sat down. It featured Grams and Abby, smiling and squinting against the sun, with an infant Bonnie cradled in her mother's arms. Bonnie had thought about calling Abby, after she'd spoken with Caroline about their information resources. Her mother had faced Mikael, imprisoned him, and lived to tell the tale. She might know more about the curse than anyone left alive. But even after Bonnie acknowledged to herself that contacting Abby was a smart move, she couldn't bring herself to do it.

That's why she was here instead. Bonnie planned to search through her grandmother's records, in the hope that Grams had some insight into what Klaus actually wanted. They had never spoken about it, but Bonnie was pretty sure her grandmother had kept in touch with Abby. At least more than Bonnie ever had. Maybe Abby and Grams had talked about whatever had really gone down that day, the day Abby never came home.

But Bonnie would not be reaching out to her mother. Bonnie couldn't count on her. Too many missed birthdays, holidays, and phone calls lay between them. Abby couldn't be relied on as a first option, or a last resort. Just a contact, a name and an email, that Bonnie had slipped into Caroline's planner on a post it note.

Bonnie tipped the photo, placing it face down on the desk.

In the center of the desk was a thick composition notebook, stuffed with extra pages, receipts, and pressed herbs. Its worn marbled cover was so ordinary, very different from the formal heft of Emily's spellbook, but it still held the same aura. It was imbued with the individual imprint of all grimoires. Bonnie hadn't dared open it before, knowing how personal it was to her Grams.

Bonnie ran her fingers over the cover. Grams had inked her name, in purple sharpie no less, in the text box as if this were any old schoolbook. Maybe that is what it started its life as, but it was much greater than that now. Bonnie sat in her grandmother's desk chair and opened the grimoire.

There, slipped between the cover and the first page, was an envelope with Bonnie's name. Grams had left her a letter. With shaking hands, Bonnie broke the seal and pulled out the letter. Grams didn't stand on ceremony, and the letter was written on loose lined paper, not any fancy stationary. Still, it retained a hint of her grandmother's perfume, and her slanted cursive was easily recognizable to Bonnie. She smoothed out the pages and read.

_To my darling granddaughter,_

_I write this knowing what it must mean for you to be reading it. I am gone, just as you told me I would be so many years ago. On that day you looked so grown up to me, so much more mature than the young child I'd known you as just that morning. Now, I look at you and am startled by my blindness. Bonnie, you are growing up to be a beautiful woman and a powerful witch, but you must remember that you are still growing. Nothing is concrete, least of all yourself at seventeen._

_You are strong, but you don't have to take the entire world, or even the entire town, on your shoulders just yet. Let others share your burdens. Elena has asked for your help in opening the tomb, and I know what this will take without the crystal and comet. Bonnie, I know._

_I know that you must be weighed down by regrets, only a soul heavy with them would have attempted the spell that you did. I know the feeling. For so long I pushed off your magical education, scared of what it would mean for you, and for me. But when I saw you last summer, I knew it was time, just as I now know it is my time._

_I can only hope that this letter takes a little of that regret, that weight, from you. You can't continue to live your life looking back, and I'm sure you've discovered that the past is much more immutable than the future._

_I wish I could watch you graduate high school and college, hug you on your wedding day, and help you discover your magic and your potential. Knowing that I will not be able to brings tears to my eyes. But everyday I've had with you, since the very first when your mother placed you in my arms, has been a gift. Every moment brought joy. Know that wherever we witches truly go after death, I will still be with you, watching over you with a smile on my face._

_Trust the spirits, trust your friends, but most of all, trust yourself. You are a good person Bonnie, and I know you will accomplish anything you set your mind to. The only obstacle you face is your own will._

_I hope you find my grimoire educational and entertaining, I'm afraid I had a habit of journaling alongside my forays into spellmaking in my younger years, but try not to judge your old grandmother too much as you learn more about her. I hope my experiments will inspire your own, but I suggest picking a nicer book to start with than I did. You'll be carrying it around for the rest of your life._

_I love you so much baby girl, remember that._

_With love,_

_Sheila Bennett_

Her Grams was truly gone. Any other change wouldn't have been worth it, but she'd held a small flicker of hope for this, that maybe another type of time spell, or some power revealed in Ruthie's journal might allow her to speak to Grams one more time. Bonnie breathed in deeply and let that flame of hope die. It lingered a second longer, burning low like an ember, before fading. Bonnie would never see her grandmother again. She let out her held breath. But Grams was not gone; she was still with her. Bonnie smiled down at the letter that Grams had left before carefully refolding it and tucking it back into the grimoire. She looked up. Every candle in the room was lit.

* * *

The impulsive visit to her grandmother's house following her meeting with Katherine and Lucy had done wonders for Bonnie's state of mind, but she had still needed time to decompress.

So, after a night of troubled sleep, Bonnie had spent all morning alone, phone off, trying to sort herself out. Her cousin had put it kindly, but finding out that she'd accidentally blazed a mark across history wasn't easy. Even if Bonnie hadn't really changed anything major, had never known a world that wasn't affected by her actions, she worried. She found herself thinking of all the witches who'd apparently jotted down the effects of her appearances. Is that how Damia Bennett had found her on the Titanic so fast? Bonnie had assumed that her ancestor was cleaning Stefan's compartment by coincidence, but maybe not.

She set these questions aside. Lucy was the scholar, not her. Bonnie was done mulling over what-ifs and what-could-have-beens. Grams was right, she couldn't keep looking back. Bonnie had tried to perform a spell to change her own past, to forget a huge part of her life. She'd risked her knowledge of magic for it. She'd told Damon that they had to move on, to forget what had happened between them, but she knew that wouldn't be possible. If she wanted to live without regrets, she'd have to accept her emotions, and actually face them. Bonnie eyed the kitchen clock. She'd finished her meager lunch, washed all the dishes, and changed clothing twice. There was no putting it off further, and she really shouldn't. After all, there's no time like the present.

She turned on her phone and texted Damon, asking if he had a moment to talk. She stared out the window, waiting for her phone to chime, and trying to formulate what she was going to say. If she planned ahead, she wouldn't be caught in the traps she fell into when they spoke. Emotion and snark sidelining the conversation and making her forget what she'd wanted to say in the first place. She slipped her ring on and off her left hand. It didn't fit quite right, a little tight, as it was still strung through the chain with her necklace, but she resisted the urge to truly put it on.

A knock sounded from her front door, and Bonnie shook herself out of her reverie. She glanced down at her phone. Fifteen minutes had passed while she was lost in her head, constructing and discarding conversation starters, and Damon had never texted back. A second knock, harsh and impatient, told her that he had decided to come straight to her rather than responding. She tucked her necklace into her shirt and hurried towards the door.

He must have heard her walking down the front hall, because he wasn't impatiently knocking again when she opened the door. Bonnie stopped short for a second, surprised that he was so far away from the entrance when she's expected him to be looming over her as soon he saw her.

"Thought I'd save us both some time and come straight here. You wanted to talk?" Damon said. His words were clipped, sharp. Whatever good will, or familial promise, had compelled him to deliver Ruthie's journal without rancor was now gone. Damon's annoyance bled through his every word. But he was here, Bonnie reminded herself. He'd come when she's called. Well, when she had texted.

February was coming to an end, and the air was crisp even in the afternoon sun. Bonnie stood still in her doorway for a moment, eyeing Damon. He was leaning against her porch railing and hadn't made any move to come closer even after she'd opened the door to greet him. He expected them to conduct their conversation like this, with the threshold barrier between them.

Bonnie wouldn't dishonor Grams by inviting a vampire into her house. Her Grams wouldn't have wanted them there, and besides, it was practical. A safe house in her name if they ever need one. With the amount of vampires running through town, and the extremely powerful vampires who were hunting Elena and possessed the ability to compel other vampires, it was good to have an all-human bolt hole. But this wasn't her Grams's house, this was hers. Her father may pass through every few weeks, but he hardly counted as a resident with the time he spent away. Her house, her decisions. Bonnie doesn't feel any regret as she turned her body sideways and gestured to the warm living room behind her.

"Yeah, I thought we should talk. Please come in."

Damon blinked once in surprise, before smoothly straightening and crossing the porch to her. Bonnie's breath caught and she held it as he passed her, but Damon didn't linger at their momentary proximity. He sauntered into the living room and eased into an armchair. Bonnie followed. The witch noted his seating choice. He'd chosen the chair, not the couch where they could have set together. But he'd sat. That was something at least. Bonnie briefly hesitated over the couch, weighing whether she should sit on the edge nearer to him or farther away, and what message each seat would send. After a few seconds of overthinking she slumped into the center, situating her weight awkwardly between two cushions.

Damon drummed his fingers against the chair's arms, waiting for Bonnie to speak. Her throat felt tight, but she had to make the first move. Katherine had been right when she pointed out that Damon had been holding them together. He had been. He'd been waiting, hand outstretched, for so long. It was only now, that Bonnie contemplated how hard this was, that she realized how difficult it must have been for him, each time she'd walked away.

The distance between them felt like an inch and a football field worth of space at the same time. Damon could cross both in the same half a second he could the actual three feet between them, so Bonnie pushed the thought aside. Gathering her courage, she met his eyes head on.

"I think we have to talk some things through." She began, but now that she was looking at him, she couldn't continue. Damon looked more like he had in 1997 than he how he'd looked in 1864, or just yesterday. Her silence on their relationship had been given time to fester, and compounded each time she'd left him in favor of a doppelganger, and his hurt made him combative.

"So you've said. Well, I'm yours to command, but make sure to keep the message consistent, my small brain is easily confused" Damon said sarcastically as he bowed his head to her. Bonnie winced, remembering her demands back at the high school, and the following kiss. She'd been so certain that he hadn't felt the same way she had, that a few kisses over the years would have meant nothing to Damon, even if they had meant a lot to her. She'd been wrong.

Bonnie bit her lip, unsure how to begin despite her efforts at preparation.

"Planning on using your words anytime soon, Bonnie?" Damon broke the silence impatiently.

"Damon, I'm scared." She admitted. The annoyance drained from Damon's face, and he shifted forwards an inch. At his newly open expression, Bonnie took her cue to continue. "You have to understand, I never meant to travel in time to when you were human, I only meant it to be for a few months, and it was to get away from everything. I was going to change the past, so I wasn't involved with vampires anymore. Getting thrown back to 1864, to you and Stefan and Katherine, was the opposite of that. It was…" Bonnie cut off her deluge of words. She had meant to be more organized than this.

"It was your worst nightmare?" Damon completed her phrase resignedly.

"No! Well, honestly, yes, a bit. But the nightmare came from the time period, not from you. You were the opposite of a nightmare."

"Is that it? I was fine then, but you don't want me now that I'm not human? Now that I'm different and evil?"

"You're not different, and you're not evil, Damon. Besides, we never even kissed when you were human, so you can hardly accuse me of preferring you before the transition."

Damon shrugged, but he looked more willing to hear her out than he had before.

"I was thrown into a situation I wasn't prepared for, and had no idea what I was doing, and that happened over and over again. And each time it meant I was going to witness something horrible. But I knew I wouldn't face it alone, because you would be there. So, thank you."

"Glad I could help. But was that all I was to you Bonnie? A familiar face?"

Katherine's words, urging her to go after what she wanted, surfaced in Bonnie's mind and she shook her head.

"You were such a light, a candle in the middle of a dark football field, Damon. But you were more than that too. And, if you wanted, I'd like to continue that."

"That?"

"Us. Together. If you're interested?"

"Oh, I'm interested, Bonnie, don't doubt that. Just waiting for the conditions. You didn't seem pleased when Elena found us yesterday."

"That was embarrassing!"

"So is this going to be a secret hookup type of relationship, or are we actually going to make a go of it before you realize in two weeks exactly what everyone in this town thinks of me?" Bonnie took a moment to figure out just how to respond to his question. She could see that he was holding out his heart to her, and was willing to hand it over to her no matter the conditions she placed on the relationship. Even if she told him she didn't want anyone else to know, or that she only wanted sex, or that she did plan to end it in less than a month. It was a very bruised heart, but still a courageous one, and Bonnie knew she had to be careful with it. Each moment she took added to the insecurities mounting in his eyes, and Bonnie decided a more immediate response was better than a perfect one.

"I can't say I won't have any conditions. I'm still strongly anti-murder which you'll have to work on, but I don't think two weeks will be nearly enough time for me to tire of you, no matter what anyone in this town has to say about it. And a secret relationship has never been my style. Too much drama. I want to love you in the open, in the daytime. Because I do, love you I mean. I love you, Damon."

She paused, biting her lip, unsure how much more she should say. She didn't have his ability to express her feelings elegantly. But Damon didn't wait for any further clarification Bonnie might have offered. He was out of the armchair and in her arms, pressing quick fervent kisses onto her mouth. They had to be quick because both were having trouble suppressing their wide smiles.

"We still have to talk—" Damon said, before throwing himself forward into a kiss again.

"You have a lot to answer for," He continued. Bonnie pulled out of his next hurried the next kiss to reply.

"I'm not the only one. You have—" Damon didn't cut her off with a kiss purposefully. In fact, he seemed to have been avoiding her mouth so that he didn't cut off any of her words, even the ones that let annoyance creep back into their joyful bubble. But as his lips made their way down Bonnie's neck, the witch forgot whatever words and accusations she'd meant to lay at Damon's feet. He pulled his smiling mouth from her skin.

"I've waited decades for my answers, Bonnie. But," He ran a hand up her side before anchoring it in her hair once more and pulling her closer. "I can wait a little longer. I have to kiss you enough to make up for all my decades without first."

He went in for another kiss, and Bonnie didn't protest. Just the opposite. Bonnie reveled in the warmth of his arms and his lips, and didn't bother trying to hold herself back. It was her house after all, and, finally, there was no one to interrupt them.

When Bonnie's breathing techniques stumbled in the face of a non-human partner, Damon gamely returned to his explorations of her neck. Bonnie squirmed, near feverish with the want and bubbling happiness dueling inside of her. She wanted to laugh, and sing, and light a bonfire in her joy. But she also didn't want to move an inch away from Damon for the next hour. Had she ever felt this way before?

Damon chuckled into her skin. She felt the upturn of his lips, the graze of his teeth, but the nip that followed didn't break skin.

"You're sparking, Bonnie."

"Huh? What do you mean?"

He pulled away but didn't release her.

Damon caught her hand with his, grasping it as if he was about to press a kiss of greeting to its back, or as if he was about to lead her onto the dance floor of a 19th century country ball.

"Look." Damon said, and Bonnie humored him with a glance at their clasped hands. To her astonishment, he wasn't speaking metaphorically. Small sparks were leaping from her skin, fizzling in the air, on their clothes, and on Damon.

Bonnie immediately jumped back, her shock and worry replacing her happiness. The sparks faded and reappeared.

"I'm so sorry! I don't know what that was!"

"Hey," Damon softly said, "It's okay." He shifted towards her again, eliminating the space she'd created on the couch between them.

"I've always been able to feel your magic, how strong you are. This was just a little bit more." He smiled. "A hundred little love zaps. I think your magic wanted to kiss me too, Bonnie."

"Don't be gross." She said with an eye roll. She would never be as…demonstrative as Damon. Was her magic trying to express what her words couldn't? How annoying.

"It never happened before though. Have I become a better kisser? What do you think Bonnie? Have I aged like fine wine?"

"Like vinegar." She said, but she kissed him again. In truth, he was a better kisser. But Bonnie didn't think the sparks could be attributed to the mechanics of the act. No, they were a sign of her irrepressible happiness. They were finally kissing for them. Not for an audience, or a ruse, or a series of misunderstandings. She loved him and he loved her and the only thing getting in the way of their happily ever after was a homicidal megalomaniac ancient vampire-werewolf hybrid. But they had each other, plus a scheming Katherine and a plotting Caroline, so that was hardly an obstacle.

They broke apart when they could no longer contain their smiles. Damon ran a hand down her arm, setting off another set of sparks in his wake. Bonnie was going to have to figure out a way to control that, but for now he didn't seem to mind.

"I like it. It's fiery, like you. And it also let's me know you're enjoying yourself." He finished with a smirk and a wink, but Bonnie took his words seriously.

"Damon, I really am. I never knew I could feel like this about someone, that someone, you, could feel this way about me. I never even knew I wanted this until I had it. I didn't even know it was possible."

"You knew I loved you. I wasn't exactly subtle."

"Well I can be pretty hardheaded if you hadn't noticed. And even after I was sure of our feelings…I wasn't sure if I should act on them."

"What made you change your mind?"

It wasn't just that everyone in Bonnie's life was telling her, directly or indirectly, to get her head out of the sand. It was their own actions.

Bonnie thought of her grandmother's final note, of Caroline's frenzied planning, and Katherine's willingness to let Elena go, in the name of Bonnie's friendship. Elena's concern, Stefan's apology, Ruth's carefully dedicated journal, and Matt's entreaty for her to reach out. Lucy's easy acceptance of her, Emily's sacrifice to save her children and Bonnie, and even the single text from her dad, currently unanswered on her phone, asking her to check in when she had a moment.

Finally, she considered the man in front of her. They'd shared happy times and hard ones, and Damon had lived literal lifetimes without her. He'd made mistakes, and he owned them. But he'd always been there, waiting, as a friend or a fiancé or anything in between. And now here they were, together.

Her trip had connected her to people she hadn't ever imagine knowing, but it had also brought her back to the people she'd already known and loved.

"I realized I wasn't alone, that I never had been." Bonnie answered him finally. Damon's face didn't show immediate comprehension, so Bonnie elaborated. "I thought I had to struggle through everything alone. Even though I was willing to help when others asked, I never thought to do the same. That thinking invaded everything in my life. It was only after I recognized that I had all of these great people in my life that I realized how ridiculous my plan to give you up was. I'd been stuck in this cycle of thinking about what I deserved, or what was better for you. But it doesn't really matter. Because we both are making this decision for ourselves, and we're both choosing each other." She finished with an audible full stop.

"Damn straight." Damon said before he decided that words weren't enough to show his appreciation.

Enough time had passed for them to have gotten fully acquainted with the others' lips before they separated again.

"Let me just look at you for a second."

Bonnie let him look. The sun was starting to set, and she hadn't turned any of the lights on earlier. She didn't want to get up. She was comfortable, entangled as she was with Damon. Besides, he didn't need the light to see her.

The hand that had cradled the back of Bonnie's neck slipped around, tracing the thin gold chain over her collarbone and down her chest, before plucking the chain from her shirt with a crooked finger. Damon stared at the pendant, with the inset bloodstone, and the ring that dangled next to it. His two tokens. Bonnie licked her swollen lips nervously.

"You're wearing my ring." Damon smiled gently, like he couldn't control how much the sight of the ring pleased him.

"Not on my finger." Bonnie's abrupt reply made her wince. She had meant for it to sound playful, coy, but even to her own ears her words sounded belligerent.

Instead of causing the offense she'd feared, her denial made his smile widen. He met her eyes with a skeptical raised eyebrow that hardly matched his grin.

"Because having it around your neck means less? Stringing it next to the stone that brought you to me in the first place means less? You're wearing it, knowing that I meant it when I asked you all those years ago. You have to know what that makes me think."

He swooped in for another kiss, and she let him for a moment, responding enthusiastically, but then shifted away once more.

Bonnie drew the chain back from him before letting it go. The pendant and ring fell back to her chest but were no longer hidden beneath her shirt's neckline.

"Damon, I'm barely eighteen, and some of that age is from time travel and not recognized by the state. I'm too young to be getting married." Damon huffed and leaned back, falling heavily into the couch cushions.

"Okay, I'm just going to take this moment to point out that when we met, our age difference was much less creepy." Bonnie actually laughed. Of all the things he was worried about being held against him, this was it.

"Well since you haven't matured at all since 1864 I won't count that extra century against you."

"Century and a half, Bonnie, which is even worse. But I was actually referring to the seven-year difference that we appear to have between us."

"Yeah, I didn't see you strictly following the half-your-age-plus-seven rule when you were compelling Caroline or making moon eyes at Elena."

"That was different. They weren't…people."

"They're both people, Damon! You might consider one a used blood bag and the other an extension of Katherine, but that's not who there are."

"Yeah, yeah, I get it. Humans are friends not food. Kindly remember that this was conversation was about to be about you adding yourself to the list of women who reject me, break my heart, and drive me into murderous rampages, not my many other faults."

"Okay, first that list is not a real list, because it's still only Katherine. You've blamed most of your violence on Stefan, and I think you'd rather agree with me when I say that the murders you commit are your own fault than unpack the psychosexual implications of your relationship with Stefan."

"Bonnie." He gave her a flat look.

"Oh, right, the point. Age difference and everything aside, this isn't a rejection, if we're actually counting your proposal on the Titanic as real. This is a… not yet. My brain isn't fully developed yet, I can't marry my immortal boyfriend without full brain capacity, even if we've technically been engaged since the turn of the last century." She joked, hoping that softening it with humor would help the quasi-rejection go down easier.

"Boyfriend?" Damon asked. Which was…not what she was expecting him to focus on.

"Yes, that is the non-threatening, non-eternally binding term for you, because we're dating." Right? Bonnie resisted the urge to add. That wasn't a question. They had just spent hours making out on the couch and confessing their love, they were dating.

"You know divorce exists right? Not exactly eternally binding?"

"That's your pitch for marriage? That we could always get a divorce?"

Damon grimaced, and Bonnie laughed. Then she kissed him.

"Perfect, very fatalist, very you. But I doubt you'd want to fight with me over custody of our friends."

"You mean your friends." He volleyed.

Bonnie raised a single brow.

"Your brother?"

"We split custody of Stefan, but I get Alaric." She laid another peck on his lips, before pulling away and trying to school her face into seriousness.

"Damon, when I say yes, I have to be sure. Sure about more than just me and you. I have to be sure about forever, immortality and all that it entails. Are you okay with waiting for that?"

"As long as you need, Bonnie, take your time. I'm with you until the end. Besides, I've always had a thing for older women." He wriggled his eyebrows and Bonnie rolled her eyes.

She laid a hand on his chest.

"The other night, you said you weren't looking for any vows, just a chance at tomorrow," She looked up through her lashes. "so, I'm saying yes to that, and a firm maybe to your much earlier proposal. There's so much I'm not sure of right now but I'm willing to take this chance, not on you, but with you." She took a deep breath and met his eyes head on. "You in?"

Damon practically beamed.

"I'm all in, Bonnie. Let's see what tomorrow brings. Together."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title from: to err is human; to forgive, divine.


	25. epilogue: those who dance lightly

_The only thing that makes life possible  
is permanent, intolerable uncertainty:  
not knowing what comes next.  
– Ursula K. Guin_

"Bonnie…Bonnie…Bonnie."

The witch groaned, trying desperately to ignore the sound of her name being called every thirty seconds.

"Bonnie, are you alive? Can you hear me?"

The voice was coming from the left and a little below her. Before it could make any further offending noise, Bonnie fisted the pillow next to her head and flung it with all her might in the voice's direction. Bonnie was feeling very weak, so it wasn't exactly a strong throw. It must have landed on its intended target though because the next words were muffled by a few inches of down feather and fabric.

"Thanks, honey. I was more looking for a hangover cure, but this is a good start. Blocks the light great."

Bonnie managed a gruff "Not a cure!" mostly said into the mattress. She pulled herself to the edge of their bed so that she could glare over the side at Damon. Luckily, he'd managed to get the pillow under his head by the time she made it, so there was nothing protecting him from her glare.

Damon squinted up at her, his pale skin tinged a waxy green, with a pained smile.

"There she is: my angel."

"Oh, shut up. I feel like death, and probably look worse. What do you want?"

"You look beautiful. The very light of my life, my reason for living, the only—"

"What. Do. You. Want."

"Do we have any hangover potion? Please tell me you planned ahead like the good little girl scout you are." Bonnie didn't throw up on him, which took real effort on her part, but flopped back onto her back. The ceiling above her spun and her stomach lurched.

"Bathroom. Blood fridge." She bit out between harsh breaths.

Bonnie's concession to Damon wanting easy access to blood bags was the mini fridge tucked in the corner of their en suite bathroom. He complained that the tiny box of a fridge could have fit in the cubbyhole of his night stand every time he felt mildly inconvenienced by the ten feet he had to walk to reach the bathroom. Bonnie reminded him that his walk could be down to the ice chest in the basement, or all the way across the state to Mystic Falls if he wanted to move back in with his brother.

Damon didn't offer his usual token of complaint this morning though, just a few pained grunts as he army crawled his way across their bedroom floor.

When Damon returned, he was upright and sipping on a blood bag. He tossed a second dose of the potion her way, and it thumped onto the pillow next to her.

Bonnie moaned and groaned her way into a seated position while Damon watched. Shooting further dirty looks his way would be too much effort with her pounding head, so Bonnie focused on getting to the so-called hangover cure. As soon as she'd swallowed the first sip the pulsing in her head lessened and her mouth lost its full-of-cotton feeling. She quickly downed the rest before tossing the bottle aside.

"Why were you on the floor? Did I kick you out of bed?" She asked.

That didn't seem likely, considering how closely she usually clung to him as they slept. She liked knowing he was there; it settled her. Sometimes Bonnie reached out to clutch Damon's arm when she first woke, still half asleep, but desperate to know the date. In her nightmares she found herself stranded a hundred years in the future with no Damon in sight. Or worse, a Damon who no longer recognized her.

"No, I spent the whole night on the floor."

Bonnie snorted.

"You managed to carry me up to bed, but not get yourself into it? Impressive even for you, Salvatore."

"Would be, if that's what happened. Hate to break this to you, Bon Bon. But it was not this Salvatore's strong arms that you were snuggled up in as you were carried up here."

"Stefan?"

"The very same. He helped me too, but only as far as the floor because he's a dick."

"Ah, I knew there was a reason Stefan was my favorite brother."

"You take that back."

"Hmm, I don't think I will." She shot back playfully.

Damon tackled her flat onto the bed.

"Who's your favorite Salvatore?" He pressed a raspberry into her throat and Bonnie squirmed away laughing. Sensitive necks were not a weakness she should still have after so many years with Damon, but her body never seemed to get that memo.

"Do you want me to be honest?"

Damon lifted himself to his hands and knees, straddled over her, blocking the sun. He nodded. Bonnie thought about continuing the joke, saying Giuseppe in such a deadpan that even Damon would have to laugh. But instead she stared up at him for a moment, appreciating how the morning sun lit upon his face and brightened his eyes.

"It's you Damon. You're my best friend and my favorite person in the world." She ran her fingers through his hair. It was getting a bit long, and she might suggest a cut if she wasn't worried he'd get self-conscious. Damon was often struck by bouts of vanity that seemed silly to Bonnie. Her hand lingered among the strands. Then again, if he continued growing it out maybe it would regain those charming curls from the nineteenth century. That had been a good look for him.

"Good." Damon said.

"Just good?"

"You're right, it's better than good. It's so good I can't even articulate it. Want to know why?"

"Why, Damon?"

"Because you're my favorite person too." He said with a wide smile. Bonnie's nose wrinkled at the cheesiness, but she was grinning too.

"Is that why you asked me to marry you?"

"Eh, first time around it was more of a peer pressure situation."

"Damon!"

"It was! But the second time was better."

"Well there was no sinking ship, so it had that in the pro column."

"I thought that added some spice to the first proposal. Were you not a fan?"

"Damon, do you know how long it took Caroline to convince me to go on that cruise with her? Over a year. Cold showers still remind me of falling out of the lifeboat."

"Does that mean you don't want to take a jaunt around the world on the Titanic II for our honeymoon? I think it could be fun. Besides, that kind of stuff is like lightning; it doesn't strike twice."

"That ship is ridiculous. Naming a ship Titanic II is asking for it to be sunk. But it doesn't matter, I don't want to do the Titanic, or Boston, and definitely no Mystic Falls. No highlight reels for our honeymoon. Let's go somewhere new."

"Rome, Paris, Tokyo?" He quipped.

Bonnie rolled her eyes as he quoted the original's much mocked line and didn't mention that they'd already visited two of those cities.

"If I wanted that cliché, I wouldn't have chosen to be with you."

"Mm, no you wouldn't have." He lowered his face towards hers and pressed a kiss to the apple of her cheek.

"I love you." she sighed out.

He pulled away. "I love you to." His expression grew serious again. "Are you ready for this, Bonnie?"

Bonnie didn't immediately answer; she wanted to give the question the consideration it deserved.

"I don't know if I could ever be ready for tonight, Damon, but it's time."

* * *

Elena greeted them with a smile that lit up her entire face. The laugh lines at the corners of her mouth deepened and her eyes sparkled in happiness.

"Bonnie! Damon! You made it!" She strode forward to wrap an arm around them both. Damon patted her on the back twice before disengaging.

"Yeah, yeah, no need for the welcoming committee, baby Grady,. We couldn't exactly miss it with Bonnie performing the spell."

Elena pulled back from the tight hug she'd wrapped Bonnie into.

"Thank you for agreeing to do this, Bonnie. And thanks for coming, Damon. I know Stefan will need you here, if…if anything goes wrong." Elena's second smile was gentler, as she looked between the couple.

Bonnie's eyes were already tearing, and Damon floundered at the doppelganger's out-of-place smile. Damon and Elena had become good friends over the years despite Elena and Stefan's on-again-off-again relationship drama. For all his concern over Bonnie's readiness to see her friend off, the witch doubted he was prepared in the least to do the same.

"Well speaking of my little brother…" Damon didn't even finish the thought. He squeezed Bonnie's hand, gave Elena one last awkward backslap, and walked away to talk to Stefan. Bonnie thought she saw the flash of a silver flask pass between them, but she could hardly begrudge either brother a drink. She'd made two large batches of her hangover potion early in the week, knowing they would need it whether tonight would be a second celebration or a memorial.

Bonnie turned back to Elena and saw that her best friend had followed her eyes and had been studying the two brothers as well. The smile on her face remained, but the sadness lurking underneath was clear. Bonnie grabbed Elena's right hand, clutching it tightly for a second, before relaxing her grip. She had to be strong for Elena now. Her friend had more reason than anyone to fear tonight.

"Hey. You sure about this? I can still set fire to the curtains and sneak us out the back." There weren't exactly any curtains in the clearing, but the sentiment remained. Elena gave a wet laugh at Bonnie's offer but shook her head.

"No, Bon. That move can stay with prom. Tonight…I know this is the right time. I want everyone to remember me like this, healthy and happy. I don't want Gray or Henry to see me like…that." She finished weakly. Bonnie nodded.

When Elena had first received her diagnosis, the cancer seemed easily beatable. They'd faced a tomb full of vampires, several covens of vengeful witches, and one seriously disturbed occult professor. The original vampire family had come to town full of threats, and their little band of nobodies came out of their first meeting with allies instead of enemies. And somehow in the middle of all that, they'd all gotten through college, which was even more crazy in Bonnie's opinion.

Elena had fought her way through med school and managed to become a mother to two amazing sons on top of being a kickass doctor. It was inconceivable that something as mundane as cancer could harm her. Elena was young, beautiful, and _strong_.

But the prognosis wasn't good, and neither vampire blood nor magic could do anything about it. In a fit of temporary insanity, after Stefan had relayed just how long Elena had probably been living with this before one of her colleagues caught it, Bonnie had opened up Emily's grimoire and read over the time travel spell. She no longer had a whole bloodstone, but she would have needed to rework the spell for her own affinity anyway. She'd begun listing possible power sources (volcanoes, forest fires, decade-burning coal mines) without a thought. Damon had caught her at it, and managed to talk her down, but it was a close thing.

Elena's hand twisted in Bonnie's, and the pad of her middle finger lingered on the dual pearl ring donning Bonnie's finger.

"I wish I could have seen you get married, Bon." Bonnie's throat felt swollen, and her eyes wet.

"You will, Elena. You're going to be my maid of honor, remember?"

"You haven't even set a wedding date." Which was true. Bonnie agreeing to wear the ring again, to be Damon's fiancé again, had been a huge step. But they'd taken it more than a year ago, and they had moved no closer to actually getting married. Damon didn't seem to mind. Bonnie needed a little more time to settle it with herself, to say goodbye to her magic and all that it was to her. But even if her wedding was a decade into the future, Bonnie wanted Elena there. Elena continued without need for Bonnie's input. "Caroline will be better at that anyway. Remember the bachelorette party she threw for me?"

"Well you got married at twenty-two; all that crazy was kind of necessary."

"And you'll be too old to have a good time? I distinctly remember you dancing on your own kitchen table last night."

"Ugh don't remind me. And it's not just an age thing, though I hope we're a bit more mature now. You're different from Care, and since you'll be my maid of honor, I know you won't be ordering a crew of singing strippers."

"Just for that I'll have to find that exact company again." Elena said with a wry smile.

"You know what? Good. Start planning maid of honor. And make sure to take time off after, we're all going on vacation afterwards and we'll live carefree like old times."

"I don't know what old times you're talking about, but I don't remember being carefree for any of them. And you want us all to go on your honeymoon with you? You sure Damon would be up for that?"

"Well…maybe we'll take a week to ourselves before you join us. But the group trip is happening."

"It sounds wonderful. Promise me you'll go, no matter what." Elena pressed, eyes wide and shining wetly.

Bonnie wanted to argue more, to make sure Elena knew that Bonnie expected her to be on that trip, but she could tell that this wasn't the time. Elena needed reassurance now. Not for herself, but for everyone she'd be leaving behind.

"Okay, Elena. I'll start looking for tropical islands tomorrow."

"And promise me you and Damon will help take care of Grayson and Henry?" She rushed out. Elena's kids were her number one concern. They were much younger than Elena has been when her own parents had died. Henry wasn't even three yet.

"I'll care for them like they're my own, we all will. And I'll never let them forget their mother, who is courageous and loving and the best friend I could ever ask for."

"Don't make me into a myth or martyr Bonnie, just me."

"Just you is—"

"Just me is as flawed as everyone else. It won't do anyone any favors to pretend otherwise." Elena paused, as if considering if she should add the next words, before continuing. "I used to blame you, you know? For everything that seemed to go wrong in my life. I don't even know why. You just seemed so strong. You had magic, you traveled through time, and you had a solution to everything, but were always a second too late for me. When you told me that you'd seen my parents on your last day in the past, but that you'd done nothing to try and stop the accident, I wanted to hit you. I knew you were right, you couldn't have done anything, but I hated you in that moment. And that's hardly me at my worst. I've been selfish and silly and sometimes very stupid. My sons will have access to my diaries, so they'll know, there's no use pretending otherwise. Just, look out for them, like you've done for me. And when you tell them about their mom, make me real. Okay?"

Bonnie nodded, not sure how she should take this last confession of her friend.

"And Bonnie? Will you ever forgive me for asking you to do this?"

"I already have, Elena. I wouldn't want it any other way. When the time comes," Bonnie swallowed past the still-growing lump in her throat. They'd been talking about this for months, but it seemed hard to believe that 'when the time comes' now referred to an event within the hour, not in the distant future. "just watch me okay? I'll be with you the whole time."

Elena nodded rapidly, before breaking eye contact.

"It's been good, Bonnie. Hasn't it? Despite everything?"

"Yeah, Elena. It has been."

"Float a few feathers for me on the way out?"

"You've always liked that stupid trick the best."

"It was the first. And it's beautiful."

"Alright. For you."

"Thanks." Elena sniffled before taking a deep breath, gathering herself. She nodded once, reassuring Bonnie and herself. "Klaus should be here any minute. I'm going to call Jenna. I want to tell the boys goodnight."

Elena slipped away to the edge of the clearing. She'd spent the past week with Stefan and her sons, her three favorite boys, as she often called them, but Bonnie knew it hadn't been enough for her friend.

Caroline and Bonnie had convinced her to leave her sons with the babysitter last night, and the whole group had come together for a reunion at Damon and Bonnie's. It had been fun, even with awkwardness that still lingered between Caroline and Matt years after their breakup, but Bonnie wasn't sure Elena felt the party worth the hours she lost with her sons. Still, Bonnie knew that Elena had appreciated the send-off. It had included all her friends who were in-the-know about the supernatural. The keg Tyler had shown up with made the whole thing feel like a high school party, despite Alaric's presence there. Maybe that's why they had all drank a little too much. They'd thought they were teenagers again, instead of actual adults. But it might have been the last night of Elena's life, so why not shine as brightly as a bunch of teenagers with no responsibilities?

"Ah, Bonnie Bennett, my sept skipped stone. Always a pleasure to see you." Klaus said from behind her. He always said her full name, savoring the alliteration as if he could taste the power of her line when he said the name. Bonnie's lip curled. Klaus could be charming and was a useful ally to have, but she could never forget their first meeting, and the bodies that had surrounded him.

"Can't say the same." She turned to the other vampire of the pair, "Kol, you're looking well."

Kol, in fact, was not looking well. He looked like death warmed over, without any vampire blood to bring it back to life.

"Ha ha. No need to make fun. Just give me one of your healing potions, darling, and we'll all feel better about this whole interaction. And remind me never to drink the Salvatore's foul vervain liquor again."

"I've told you before; it's not a healing potion. It's a hydration bomb for your system. There's no such thing as healing magic, because healing would be an abomination of nature—"

"Yes, yes. I know. And we all know your potions can't be that because you only let one abomination of nature inside you."

"Kol!"

"What? Oh…you dirty girl! I was talking about those horrid cheese puffs you're always eating. I will never willingly bring up Damon Salvatore's—" Kol actually shuddered after cutting off the thought. "Anyway, Bonnie, hangover hydration bomb? And maybe a side of brain bleach?"

"Hmm, you gonna cash in your favor for it?"

"And here I thought we were friendly enough for you to give it out of the goodness of your heart. But, no, I will not be cashing in my favor until something really important comes along. Though I thought I was going to have to use it last night to get you off that table."

Bonnie groaned. She really needed to make the rounds to ensure that no video evidence from last night survived. To shut him up, she fished a vial of her hydration elixir from her purse and handed it over.

"You were at their party? You?" Klaus questioned him. He looked offended.

"Come Klaus, you could hardly have expected an invite yourself. You're the cause of their dear doppelganger's death after all." Kol pointed out. Klaus pouted. It seemed one thousand years meant he had little shame and a real lack of self-awareness.

Klaus looked around the small clearing. Bonnie was not a fan of them choosing the quarry for the ritual, and she could see Damon eyeing the water uncomfortably as well. Her leaving him on that shore wasn't a good memory for either of them, and while he'd long forgiven her, it wasn't exactly their favorite picnic spot. But maybe it was better this way, no use contaminating a new place with bad memories.

"She's not here." She said, after watching Klaus search the clearing for the third time.

"Who?" Klaus said, trying to look innocent. Bonnie rolled her eyes. He'd passed subtlety long ago, she didn't know why he was trying to even hide his intentions now.

"Caroline. She's not here. She's with the kids." Guarding them from your crazy ass, Bonnie doesn't add. Because she is polite and mature.

"And where are my good little godchildren?" Klaus asked.

"None of your business" Bonnie said. But at the same moment, Elena entered the conversation with a cheery "Snuggled up at Grams's place with Jenna and Mason!"

Bonnie grimaced. She couldn't understand Elena's lack of fear, or the odd friendship she'd struck up with the man who would be her killer. And it was more than the doppelganger's self-sacrificial streak; Klaus and Elena had managed a real friendship.

Elena had spoken in his defense earlier this year, when he'd come back to ensure his side of the deal after being informed of Elena's illness. Bonnie had broken her own word, inked on a treaty Caroline had brokered nearly a decade before, and looked into how to kill Klaus. She hadn't wanted to lose Elena like this, as a sacrifice on an altar. She still didn't. But Elena had insisted. Their promise would be kept, and Elena's death would not be from a slow and messy succumbing to her illness, but a quick one at the hands of Klaus.

In the vampire's defense, he had done everything he could to try and prolong Elena's life. Klaus had flown experts in from around the world, medical and supernatural, to try and find a cure. But vampire blood would accelerate the cancer cells, and modern medicine had found no recourse either. Bonnie thought, perhaps uncharitably, that this help had more to do with his hope that Elena would pop out another kid and another possible line of doppelgangers, but her friends were more inclined to forgive. They took the scholarship funds he set up for Grayson and Henry, the mortgage he'd paid off for Jenna, and his deferring to Elena's schedule and worries at face value. For the most part, they welcomed Klaus as just another member of their ragtag group of friends. Even Damon. Even Stefan.

But Bonnie wasn't quite there yet. Because for all of Elena's cajoling her that Klaus was not the villain, that she was dying regardless, performing the ritual meant that Bonnie would have to chant over her friend's dying body. And that was on Klaus. So he hadn't gotten an invite to the reunion held in her home.

Bonnie tuned back into the conversation to find them discussing Grayson's enjoyment of his latest birthday present from Klaus. How the ancient vampire managed to look so interested in the child's development was beyond Bonnie. Elena becoming a mother caused as great of a chasm between them as Bonnie finding out she was a witch. No matter how much they loved each other, there were just things about the other's life that they did not understand. The joy of watching a four year old play with a toy car was one of those things. Though maybe the fault lay with Bonnie, because Klaus certainly seemed as invested as any parent, despite lacking a child.

Bonnie's musings on her own lack of maternal instinct were interrupted the arrival of yet another Mikaelson.

Rebekah looked like she just walked off a movie set, hair coiffed and make up perfect. From her bag she drew out a dusty bottle, which she pushed at Elena.

"Elijah sends his regards." She drawled.

"He decided not to come?" The doppelganger said, disappointment clear in her voice. Elena had an odd friendship with Klaus, but Elijah was still clearly her favorite of the originals. They all had one. Kol, when he wasn't acting murderous or particularly annoying, was Bonnie's, if only for his library of grimoires.

Rebekah sneered. "He didn't want to leave the _other_ doppelganger's side. And she didn't want to come. For obvious reasons." She said with a dark look at Klaus. He shrugged and tried to look innocent.

"As promised, I won't harm Katerina. She's completely pardoned. I can't imagine why she'd be uncomfortable around me now." Like him hunting Katherine for five hundred years was just something she should let go. Then again, she had managed just that for Elijah.

"Is that Elijah's bargaining chip?" Klaus asked, gesturing at the bottle.

It must be, Bonnie realized. Years ago, when Caroline and Bonnie had sat down to negotiate with the Mikaelson brothers, Elijah had mentioned an elixir. He'd commissioned it centuries ago, for Katherine, Katerina, and he'd kept it. The life sacrificed in its making was still trapped, just waiting to be given away. It would bring Elena back to life after the ritual.

There was some hope it would do more than that, but no promises could be made on that count. The disease could remain, or it could dissipate. They'd know tomorrow.

"Yes, Lazarus in a bottle. Just drink."

Elena cradled the bottle close to her. She wouldn't drink it until the last moment, when she was the only sacrifice left. It wouldn't do to risk it somehow wearing off.

"Alright, let's do this." Elena said with a definitive nod. Bonnie swallowed and nodded back. The moon was high; they couldn't put this off any longer.

"Kol," Klaus called, "fetch my contributions!"

"Don't tell me what to do!" The younger brother called back, but he still moved towards the still forms on the ground. Still because they had been thoroughly trussed up, not because they were unconscious. No, Bonnie realized with a start, the two figures had been awake and alert this entire time. Alert and helpless, watching Bonnie and her friends casually chat with the Mikaelsons.

Kol dragged each to the center of the clearing, where Bonnie had marked two spots on the ground with some heavy-duty tape, like this was a summer camp theatrical. Once each had reached their mark, Kol dumped them. Elena's place needed no marker. Klaus had commissioned an altar suitable for his sacrifice, smooth stone raised from the ground, with, Bonnie knew, convenient drainage to catch every precious drop of Petrova doppelganger blood that would leave her body.

Elena stepped up to her place and sat shakily. Bonnie took a moment to eye the other sacrifices. Dark hair and carefully manicured eyebrows. Were they siblings? Unlikely, as one was a vampire and one a werewolf. Their superficial similarities were shared with Elena, casting an almost familial air to the picture. Bonnie could too easily picture Jenna and Jeremy, or worse, Grayson and Henry, on each side of Elena in their places. She shivered.

Klaus cast a critical eye over the group.

"He really should be a woman for aesthetic symmetry." He complained, as Bonnie looked on incredulously. "Wouldn't that be something? The three goddesses, sacrificed at Nature's altar, for me."

"Yeah, his gender really ruins the whole night." Bonnie snarked.

At the center of the clearing, Damon was speaking lowly to Elena, before he stepped away to leave her and his brother alone. He looked at Bonnie, but she shook her head, discouraging him from making his way toward her. If she talked about what she was feeling right now, if she even let herself lean on him for even a moment, she would collapse. She'd take her strength from him later, when her brittle resolve broke. But not now.

"Well it certainly won't look as nice in my painting. But I suppose we must make do." Klaus said with a sigh.

"Just paint Caroline in his place instead. You're used to painting her face without a reference, if my memory of your stalker room holds up."

That relationship was somehow more confusing than the one Klaus carried on with Elena. Caroline had walked into the meeting with determination and her color-coded planner and left with a contract sealed with a witch's oath and Klaus's blood. Klaus had entered with a smirk and ready threats and left with a gobsmacked expression and actual heart eyes. Bonnie had been in the room the entire time, but she still felt like she had no idea what had happened. But the dozens of paintings, gifts, and words of devotion seemed to charm, or at least amuse, Caroline, so Bonnie had learned to roll with it.

"Absolutely not! Caroline's genuine beauty must always remain central, and this day, I'm afraid, belongs to the doppelganger." Klaus shook his head at her lack of understanding. "I suppose he'll have to stay, in reality and the painting. We can't have women make all of the sacrifices."

Like they weren't already. Bonnie turned away.

"Let's start."

She climbed the incline and stood in front of the stone basin set aside for the purpose. Cradled at its center was the moonstone, knotted with power. Bonnie breathed in, breathed out, and began.

Circles of fire leapt to life, burning against the stone beneath Elena as easily as it did on the dry grass.

If she were another kind of witch, working against her nature, this ritual would take all night. She would need generous breaks interspersed between each sacrifice for time to recharge. But she had three rings of fire, a cauldron of flames, and determination burning within her. Her coven stood by and she stood strong. Bonnie would make this quick.

The full moon reached its apex. Bonnie could feel it, the sunlight reflecting off its surface back down at her and this smooth stone. The size of a hockey puck and carrying a curse a thousand years old. But no longer. Bonnie began the spell, savagely tearing through the binding that Esther had laid down. Once it was untethered, the curse was all around them, alive in the air. Klaus grinned. Could he feel it as clearly as Bonnie could?

"The first." She said, in a short breath between her chants. Klaus nodded, and descended. Bonnie killed the fire surrounding the werewolf, channeling it back into herself, into the ritual. Klaus wasted no time, thrusting a hand into the woman's chest. His hand, bloody to the wrist, emerged with a whole pulsing heart. In an instant, he was back at Bonnie's side, squeezing the organ over the cauldron. It squelched and Bonnie stuttered over the spell with a gag before she continued.

"The second." She managed.

A stake appeared in Klaus's hand, and then it was in the chest of the waiting vampire. Seconds later, a small dish of his blood had been emptied into the basin. The flames rose, and Bonnie's voice with them.

Bonnie's eyes teared, and not from the heat.

"The third. Elena."

Klaus was not so quick, not so eager. He gave Elena time to drink the elixir, to toss the bottle aside, to steal herself one final time for what was about to come. Over the crackling fire in front of her, Bonnie heard his words.

"Thank you, Elena." He said, with a brush of his hand over her head. Then the knife came up and was calmly plunged into her. Straight through.

Klaus laid her down gently, backing away a few steps. The circle of flames reignited. Shorter than before. It was not there to trap Elena. Bonnie just wanted to keep her warm, and this is the closest she could get to a hug at this moment.

Elena's eyes fluttered. She wouldn't remain conscious much longer. Bonnie spared the slimmest amount of energy she could to whip the wind around them. A swirl of red and orange surrounded Elena, a thousand leaves swirled into a vortex, and then stopped still. They floated, reflecting the light of the bright moon and the low-burning flames. Elena's eyes filled with tears and wonder. Bonnie thought she spotted a twitch of her friend's lips. Perhaps an attempt at thank you, or goodbye, or her children's names. But it's barely a twitch before her whole body goes still.

Then they wait. The witches were clear. All of the doppelganger's blood, or the elixir would fail.

In their first wave of research, they'd thought that Klaus would have to drink from Elena until her death in order to complete the ritual, but her blood was really needed afterwards, for the creation of other hybrids. The unbinding spell only needed her death. The resurrection elixir, however, needed more. It needed her drained, an empty vessel.

Bonnie let the leaves float back to the ground and looked around the clearing. Every face was drawn, even Rebekah looked saddened.

Damon was holding Stefan back with an arm around his chest. Stefan had tears running down his cheeks. Bonnie met Damon's gaze. Stefan's eyes didn't leave Elena's body, still bleeding out and encircled by fire. But Damon's eyes were only on her, on Bonnie. She read his concern and reassurance from twenty yards away. Once this was done, whatever the outcome, he would be with her.

Elena's body was still, but through the magic connecting them, Bonnie could feel the blood draining away into the basin underneath the platform she rested on. It was sick, this contraption Klaus had commissioned, but it was effective. Not a drop would be wasted. After they leave, some minion of the Mikaelsons would come to collect it. It was to be packaged, stored, and processed. Klaus meant to experiment. He had plans for blood pills of all things, inspired by some mommy blog placenta trend Elena had forwarded to him.

Bonnie felt the last drop go and fell silent. Her part was over. She blinked, once, at the stillness of the night. For a moment nothing moved. Then Klaus screamed in agony and transformed.

The process was slow and gruesome; each bone in his body broke and shifted. Eventually, a wolf stood where a vampire once had. Its hackles rose immediately, assessing them as threats with no recognition. After a moment it bounded away into the forest.

"Niklaus!" Rebekah shouted, and ran after him. Kol offered them a jaunty salute before following after.

For a moment no one else moved. Then Damon released Stefan. The younger Salvatore brother was at Elena's side in an instant, propping her up in his arms. The long minutes ticked by, but the wrist under his fingers refused to yield a pulse. Bonnie's body felt leaden, stiff. The promise they had all made so many years ago had finally come to a head. The town was safe, their families alive, but Elena was dead.

Had it been worth it? Should they have fought Klaus to the last early on? Bonnie hadn't thought so all those years ago. She'd been committed to deliberation and rational thought, to Caroline's plans of alliances. But they'd just midwifed the birth of an entirely new supernatural race, with Klaus at the head of it. Their contracts might protect them, and their loved ones, but what about everybody else?

Elena gasped back to life, clawing at Stefan as he clutched her to his chest. Bonnie nearly broke with the rush of relief that crashed down on her. Her legs gave way from underneath her, and she fell to her knees.

Bonnie felt a hand on her shoulder and then Damon was crouching beside her, ready to help her up or sit down beside her.

"What's next?" Damon asked.

What Elena would do next, Bonnie wasn't sure. Would she accept Stefan's offer to change her into a vampire? Or, if her test results from tomorrow came back clean, would she choose humanity again?

Bonnie did not think she had Elena's fortitude in this. She wouldn't be able to look Damon in the eye and say goodbye. She couldn't do that to herself, or to him. She loved him, herself, and their life far too much for that. No, she couldn't say goodbye. She wanted this, forever.

Bonnie didn't answer 'transition' or 'let's get married tomorrow' which would mean much the same thing. Now wasn't the time.

"Let's go home." Bonnie settled on. Damon held out a hand to help her up.

They walked off, not into the sunset, but into the dawning light of a new sunrise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title from: all those who dance lightly are not merry 
> 
> Note: Damon's calling Elena 'baby Grady' is a reference to the creepy Grady twins in The Shining. 
> 
> I just want to take this moment to thank everyone who has been reading this story as I've published it (and for any new readers who have stumbled across it as a finished work: hi! thanks for being here too!). Your comments and kudos meant the world to me, and spurred me to keep going even as real life interrupted the quarantine writing bubble I'd created.
> 
> I don't know if this fic will ever be exactly what I want (it's still full of California conversations, is lacking in both plot and structure, and over uses the 'to be' verb unashamedly), but it is something of a realized dream to have it completed and published. Bloodstone is by far the longest fic I've ever written, and something that I didn't think I would ever finish.
> 
> I hope it made you smile at least once, and that you enjoyed coming on this long journey with Bonnie and I. Thank you. 
> 
> If you have any questions/reactions, drop a comment below--I try to respond to all of them!


	26. extra: but mountains never

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chairing the Mystic Falls Beautification Committee meant Caroline knew how to scent blood in the water long before she became a vampire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes: Klaus and Elijah are the only originals awake, and they aren’t really working together or getting along yet.  
> This chapter-length endnote is from Caroline’s POV and overgrew itself so much that it now has an endnote of its own.

_Let us never negotiate out of fear._  
_But let us never fear to negotiate._  
_—John F. Kennedy_

“Remember, we have to be careful. Grams said Mikael was the original vampire. From what the Gilberts could find out, he was at least a thousand years old and absolutely crazy. And _he_ said Klaus is the scourge of the earth.” Bonnie reminded Caroline again, like she could have forgotten who they were dealing with in the twenty-minute drive from her house to the budget hotel one town over.

“True, but neither Stefan or Damon had ever even heard of Klaus before. He can’t be that bad. If he was such a monster, you would think he’d be a bigger deal.”

“They didn’t even know werewolves were real. They haven’t been the most plugged in to the supernatural world. Remember what my contacts said?”

“They can be pretty unobservant.” Caroline agreed, ignoring the last question. Caroline didn’t want to ask if Bonnie meant her weirdly talkative dead relatives or the sketchy supernatural people that Lucy and Katherine apparently ran with. Neither had anything good to say about the Mikaelsons anyway.

“And Katherine is terrified of him. She wouldn’t even come to this meeting!” Bonnie added forcefully.

“That’s because Katherine has nothing to offer him, and he wants to kill her. He doesn’t want to kill us yet; that’s an advantage.”

Caroline thought Katherine’s absence probably had more to do with Elijah’s RSVP than the threat that Klaus posed. Bonnie claimed Katherine wasn’t a coward, but Caroline didn’t have the same confidence in her murderer. Plus, she couldn’t blame Katherine for trying to duck out of an awkward meeting with yet another one of her ex-lovers. Damon and Stefan were bad enough, adding Elijah and Klaus to the mix would hardly be pleasant, especially if Katherine had real feelings for Elijah like Bonnie seemed to think.

“I guess you’re right. And it’s probably better that she isn’t here anyway. Might enrage him.” Caroline nodded. That sounded like Katherine. Bonnie let the silence linger for a moment before breaking it again. “Don’t you think it’s weird that we’re the ones doing this? Shouldn’t an adult be here? We’re just kids.”

Bonnie was right; they were only teenagers. But ever since her little trip, Bonnie had been different. She looked comfortable in her own skin, and used magic like it was a well-known tool, not a caged animal she unleashed when backed into a corner. Caroline trusted her more than any adult on this earth, even with the witch’s newfound trust in certain unsavory characters.

Caroline would never stop being grateful that Bonnie had been the one to find her that day in the hospital. Bonnie showed up with all the answers and had been a soothing balm to Caroline’s panicked hysteria. Acting as backup for negotiations with some homicidal vampires was just the start of Caroline’s payback for her help. Besides, if Caroline were being honest with herself, it would have been Bonnie at this table no matter what, time travel or no. Bonnie had never been one to pass on responsibility. At least now Caroline could support her friend with some concrete plans.

“Come on, Bon. An adult? Like who? Alaric? My mom? Would you trust either of them to do this? They’d come in here stakes blazing without a thought. Both Salvatores are too trigger happy for this, and Elena way too willing to offer herself up without a thought. No, it’s on us.”

Bonnie didn’t agree out loud, but she didn’t deny anything Caroline said either. It wasn’t exactly something that could be denied. The town was seriously short on level-headed people.

“Thanks for the pep talk,” Bonnie said. “And sorry for throwing this all at you, Care. Damon keeps calling you a baby vampire, but you’ve always been so…you. The girl with the plan. I just started relying on you. Maybe you should go. Who knows what kind of target this will paint on your back?”

“Do not try to convince me to walk out that door. I don’t care about any targets. I care about you, and Elena, and I’m staying. Besides, you can’t do this alone.”

“I could. If I needed to.”

“Maybe, but you don’t. Besides, remember the plan.”

“You think it will work? What if he doesn’t go for it?”

“My dad raised me to be mayor of this town by the time I was twenty-five, and expected me to be a congresswoman by thirty-five. Becoming a vampire might have killed his dreams for me, in pretty much every way, but it doesn’t change the lessons I was taught. This Klaus guy? He’s been around for a thousand years, sure, but he’s not exactly a politician. He’s lost his kingdom, his family, and, if he doesn’t deal with us, his chance at breaking his curse.”

“Right. He needs us, not the other way around…you really believe that?”

“Yes. But I don’t even need to. We just need him to believe it.”

“And you think you can convince him?”

“Please Bonnie, this guy was raised to be a hunter and a gatherer. Dangle a few berries in front of him and he’ll be eating out of the palm of our hands.”

Bonnie laughed, but doubt still lingered in her eyes. Caroline set her shoulders and put on a confident grin. A text chime stopped any further discussion. Caroline glanced at her phone. The compelled receptionist was letting them know that one of the brothers had arrived.

“It’s Elijah.”

Bonnie nodded, and the uncertainty drained from her face. She pursed her lips and sat back in her chair, letting surety bleed into her pose. Behind her the five pillar candles on the credenza flared to life. They’d brought them from Grams’s and placed them carefully in the bland conference room. The candles didn’t lend personality to the space any more than the abstract line art did, but they gave Bonnie a ready weapon if she needed one.

Caroline swallowed. Bonnie’s newfound poise was a good thing, but sometimes it threw Caroline off balance. The two had been friends since first grade and had experienced everything together. The fact that Bonnie had now lived something Caroline could never know, gained knowledge of herself and magic, and somehow fallen in love with Damon Salvatore in the process, was hard to wrap her head around. Sometimes it felt like Caroline had woken up from her accident in a different world, and it wasn’t only the new bloodlust that contributed to the feeling.

Another text tone. Klaus. At least they wouldn’t be entertaining one vampire brother while waiting on the other’s arrival.

“Hey, Care?”

Caroline looked over at Bonnie. Her friend practically glowed, haloed by the fire that burnt brilliantly behind her.

“Remember what you said. We hold all the cards. We’ve got this.” Bonnie said with a wink. Caroline nodded back and plastered on her own game face. She thanked the world one more time that Bonnie was her friend, that their friendship was founded on building each other up, and that Bonnie had enough magic to blast their way through the side of this building if things went south.

Caroline heard the ding of the elevator at the end of the hall, and the bang of the stairwell door being thrust open. The two heavy sets of footsteps converged. Caroline could make out a tense greeting, but neither brother stopped to chat. She allowed herself one last deep breath.

She could do this. She was Miss Mystic Falls, and she had promised to aspire, inspire, and perspire for this town. She wasn’t about to let some ancient asshole mess it up or kill Elena before she appeared on Caroline’s homecoming court. Game time.

The two men who entered the conference room were a study of contrasts. One sported carefully slicked hair, a pressed suit, and shoes that shined brighter than the fluorescents overhead. This had to be Elijah. Caroline carefully filed away every aspect of his appearance that she could. She took a moment to acknowledge and set aside her surprise on one score; this was not who she would have pictured to be Katherine Pierce’s One That Got Away.

The other brother, Klaus, wore distressed jeans and a Henley. Caroline spotted a bit of paint on the back of his wrist, as if he’d rushed to get here after a long night in the studio. His hair was artfully ruffled, and his cheekbones to die for. Fuck, this wasn’t fair. He was hot.

The grainy photos forwarded by Katherine’s shady contact in New Orleans hadn’t done him justice, nor had any previous descriptions. Bonnie had mentioned he was handsome, but she’d focused more on the whole covered-in-blood-and-viscera aspect of his appearance. Which, while understandable, had not prepared Caroline for this.

Luckily, before Caroline’s heartbeat could reflect any thought about the older vampire’s attractiveness, he ruined his handsome face with a snarl. Now he was more like the descriptions.

“You!” He spat, and he would have lunged across the room if his brother hadn’t caught his arm. Caroline flinched backwards, even though his hateful glare wasn’t directed at her. She doubted he’d even registered her as present in the room; his entire body strained towards Bonnie.

“Peace, brother. We have all come here to talk.” Elijah said in measured tones. But Klaus didn’t listen. Instead of shrugging his arm out from his brother’s grip, he threw him against the opposite wall. Elijah was up again in a flash, but there was a dent in the wall. Great.

Caroline stared. She knew the two brothers weren’t on the best of terms, but she thought they’d present something of a united front. Maybe this would be easier than she’d feared.

“Hey! We’re not paying for any damages, got that? That’s article one of this contract – write it down Caroline!”

Caroline nearly gaped at her friend’s indignant reprimand, but her words froze the two vampires. Were they surprised she would begin with something so trivial? Bonnie turned her hard glare on Caroline and she quickly added a line regarding damages to her working draft of their contract. At the first sound of her keystrokes, the violence eased from Klaus’s face, and his entire body unclenched. The hair at the back of Caroline’s neck remained upright. A calm predator was just as dangerous as an angry one, if not more so.

“A contract? How modern and civilized of you. Not going to extract a witch’s promise from me? They’re much more binding, and not so wasteful on the paper. Or are you no longer one of Nature’s children?” Klaus taunted.

“A contract doesn’t preclude an oath; it just makes sure all of us are aware of what promises we’re making. Which I will seal. Myself.” Bonnie said, with a flare of the candles behind her, so that no one could doubt her magic. “Besides, our friend’s a notary.” she finished with a shrug. That Lucy had just gotten her license online last week went unsaid.

Also left unspoken were the hours they’d spent in preparation. Bonnie had remained bent over law books and thick tomes of magical theory for much of the past few weeks.

Caroline had tried to help, but had quickly given up her attempts at understanding magic. Reading grimoires was like trying to follow a recipe from a food blogger that insisted on interspersing each step with their life story, with no handy ‘Jump to Recipe’ button in sight. Plus they were all full of contradictions Caroline couldn’t understand.

It was better for her to rely on what she knew. Besides, magic still freaked her out. She’d gone to the witch house once with Bonnie, because for all the high-handed servants of the balance talk, plenty of witches were friends with vampires, on earth and beyond the grave, and were willing to help Bonnie out with what they knew. But she would not be going back if she could help it. Watching Bonnie commune with a bunch of dead witches for answers had been disturbing, even before Caroline was forcefully expelled from the house by an irate spirit just for being a vampire.

“How refreshing to meet people so rational. Thank you for the invitation to this meeting.” Elijah said, as he carefully lowered himself into a chair. With his formal suit, he should have looked the most at home in the business setting, but his face retained a graceful look of disdain that clearly reflected his thoughts on the local Marriott’s hospitality.

“Well I can hardly object if Elijah is so willing. And may I compliment you on how youthful you look, Miss McCullough? The last witch to live so long wrinkle-free was Countess Bathory.”

Bonnie gave him a blank look, but Caroline, much more versed in history and Wikipedia rabbit holes, perked up with curiosity.

“But wasn’t she a vampire?”

“Elisabet? A vampire? Don’t be ridiculous. We drink blood, we don’t bathe in it.”

Caroline took a moment to write a note to herself in a separate word document. If they came out of this without a bloodbath, these vampires would be an amazing source for any future history papers. She also pulled up her working list of possible careers and added one more entry: _historian (is this ethical and/or possible?? focus on supernatural?)_.

Bonnie cleared her throat. “Your information is a bit out of date. McCullough was just a pseudonym. My name is Bonnie Bennett.”

Bonnie hissed her last name, and Caroline saw the brothers exchange a look. Were the Bennetts important? The Kennedys of the witch world maybe?

Klaus’s eyes narrowed even further, boring into Bonnie’s face. Caroline wondered what he was searching for. He’d obviously recognized her, just as he had the first time in Bonnie’s recounting. But what had Bonnie been like in that short meeting a century before? How early in her journey had Bonnie gained her confidence? Was it the modern makeup, newly combed hair, and freshly washed jeans that he was studying so intently? Or her countenance, when she wasn’t reeling from a trip through time and the psychic aftershock of an entire coven’s death?

Caroline pushed aside her thoughts on Bonnie’s eventful trip and started.

“I’m Caroline Forbes. So glad you could both make it. You’ve really come at the perfect time of year, springtime in Virginia is the best. If you stick around this weekend, there is a wildflower festival in Mystic Falls on Sunday!”

The brothers blinked. Caroline didn’t even look at Bonnie; she didn’t want to see the disappointed face. Klaus’s lips twitched, like he was about to burst out with a peal of laughter.

But Caroline wasn’t about to let herself ruin this. She started again, this time without her perky customer service voice. 

“So, Klaus, you don’t mind if I call you Klaus, right?”

“Not at all, love.” He said. She frowned at the familiarity.

“Please, call me Caroline. If you have trouble with that, Forbes is fine too.”

“My apologies. Caroline it is.”

“Great! Now, let’s get down to business. What do you have to offer us?”

“Excuse me?”

Klaus’s pleased face abruptly turned stormy, and Elijah’s bemused. Bonnie sat back in her chair, more than willing to let Caroline take the lead on this. The blonde vampire persisted.

“I’m not sure what is causing your confusion, but I can rephrase. What are you bringing to the table for our partnership?”

“I think you’re the one who’s confused, love. I’m an original vampire. I agreed to come to your little meeting at this…fine establishment as an amusement, but the only thing I need to offer is my mercy. Give me the doppelganger and I won’t kill every single one of you where you sit.”

“One, I believe we established that nicknames are not appropriate at the deliberation table. Two, considering you provided a net zero number of ideas for meeting locations, you shouldn’t knock the Marriott board room I booked. And three, I’m not sure how well that murder argument has worked out for you in the past, but I’m going to clue you in to something; it’s not a very compelling one. Ultimatums rarely are.”

“They tend to be a bit more compelling when the recipient can feel my fingers around their heart. How would you like to test that out?” Klaus said, but he didn’t move to carry out his threat. Not yet.

“Elena’s full of vampire blood, and Damon will kill her in a second if you even touch a hair on Bonnie’s head.” Caroline threatened.

“It’s true. He’s impulsive and easily motivated by revenge,” Bonnie interjected. She flicked her eyes over Klaus and his snarl before continuing, “a bit like you, I would guess.”

Caroline nodded in agreement and picked up the argument thread.

“If for some reason Damon is moved by sentiment for his friendship with Elena, which I’m going to tell you now, I doubt, I have two humans compelled to kill Elena themselves. So yes, you can kill us all, and even Elena too, after she’s transitioned, but you’ll be standing in a mass grave with the curse still unbroken, and knowing it was only your own poor negotiation tactics that are at fault. I don’t think you really want to wait another 500 years to learn from your mistakes, do you?” She paused and gave Klaus a faux sympathetic look, as if this were prom committee and she’d just finished tearing Aimee Bradley apart for her suggestion of paisley tablecloths. “No, I didn’t think so. Why don’t we start again? You want Elena to be sacrificed in your ritual. We aren’t particularly inclined to killing our friend. How will you change our minds?”

“You know. You must have suspected when we last met, but now you’re sure.” Elijah said flatly before Klaus could respond to her .

“What exactly do I know?” Bonnie said cagily.

“Yes, brother, please do enlighten us.”

“Klaus, they know what the curse is. They know it is personal or they would not be bargaining in this manner.”

“Come on? Is that a shock. How many people actually believe that Sun and the Moon curse legend? It doesn’t even make sense. It sounds like something from a TV show with no historian to consult.” Bonnie said facetiously.

Caroline surreptitiously added _Hollywood consulting historian_ to her list of potential careers. Not supernatural related, but there was no requirement that her future had to be bound to her new undead life.

“You two don’t have a degree between you, so I doubt it was your own cleverness that brought you to this conclusion. No, someone told you.” Elijah’s eyes darted around the room after that insult, like the wood paneled walls might hide a secret compartment. “Where is she? Where is Katerina?”

“Katherine,” Bonnie stressed the vampire’s preferred name, “is not here. She won’t be attending any negotiation sessions until we at least work out a non-aggression pact. But you’re wrong to suspect her. She knew how to break the curse, but not the details of what it was. No, our source was much closer…much more _familiar_ with it.”

“Mikael.” Klaus hissed before he flipped the table. Caroline just managed to snatch her laptop from the surface, but Bonnie blasted the table across the room before it could hit them and Caroline’s beloved planner sailed through the air with it. She hoped all her sticky notes stayed in their proper places.

“Overreact much. It’s not like he’s hiding in the next room” She muttered. She bolded the only line on the contract she’d managed to write: **Payment to cover any accrued damages to the rented conference room will be provided by Klaus Mikaelson and Elijah Mikaelson.**

Elijah straightened his cuffs and pushed back the lock of hair that had fallen over his eye. In the midst of the destruction he now looked even more out of place.

“We’re not working for Mikael. Just the opposite really.” Bonnie said calmly. Because apparently traveling through time gave you balls of steel as well as the reaction time of a cheetah.

“You’re not working with our father, you’re not willing to hand over your friend, you haven’t served up Katerina to me, and yet you insist you aren’t here asking for your deaths. So what exactly are you bargaining for?” Klaus asked derisively.

“Time,” Bonnie said, clear and to the point. “We want to decide on the when and the where of your little ritual.”

“But you would do the ritual?” Elijah asked.

“ _I_ would happily blast you into the next century, but Elena is…sympathetic to your plight, though God only knows why. But we’ll do the ritual. On our terms.”

“I want Katerina,” Klaus said.

“Out of the question.” The words didn’t come from Bonnie, though she would have protested as well, but from Elijah. Caroline raised an eyebrow. Did he want to save Katherine from Klaus, or just strangle her himself?

“I won’t be handing my friends over to either of you. Katherine goes free and Elena gets to live a long and happy life without you threatening her. Those are non-negotiable.”

“And if we don’t agree?”

“Then this conversation really has no place to go, and that means war.”

“And I think you’ll find that allies will be easier for us to come by than for you.” Caroline added. There were plenty of vampires who wanted to knock Klaus off his throne.

“No doubt. Well then, let’s get started,” Klaus said with a smirk. He motioned towards Elijah, and Caroline tensed, ready to jump straight out the window. She was only a few months old in vampire world; there was no way she would live through a fight with these two. Her job was to warn the others. But apparently his wordless gesture was not a brotherly call to arms. Instead, the two ancient vampires lifted the table and set it back in the center of the room, as if it wasn’t cracked down the middle and missing a large chunk from the left end leaf. Bonnie settled back into her chair as the two brothers pulled up their own. Caroline gingerly set her laptop back on the table in front of her.

Caroline bit her lip and nervously tapped her finger against the space bar of her laptop. Her cursor moved steadily across the empty screen and still no one spoke. Could they do really this? It certainly hadn’t gone well so far.

Out of the corner of her eye, Caroline saw her planner slid across the table towards her. Klaus tapped the cover once before leaning back. A dozen sticky notes had been stuck to the front cover, recovered from the floor after they’d fallen from their set places.

“Sorry, love. But I doubt you want me guessing where those went.” Caroline’s eyes narrowed at the thought of this stranger messing with her carefully curated and color-coded system. He mistook her glare and lifted his arms, immediately protesting his innocence.

“My apologies, again. Caroline.” The period after her name was audible and he nodded to himself, as if training the name into his memory. “Let’s see what we can agree on then. Shall we?”

Bonnie nodded and Caroline flexed her fingers, ready to type. Maybe this would work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title from: men may meet but mountains never
> 
> & endnote of a chapter-long endnote: 
> 
> Just when Bonnie was starting to get tetchy from hunger a knock sounded at the door and the smell of a pizza wafted into the room. Caroline rolled her eyes. She could smell the toppings and knew exactly who this pizza had come from. Damon acting like a mother hen from across town definitely undermined their credibility, but his spot-on timing was impressive.  
> Bonnie gasped when she opened the box, revealing what Caroline already knew.
> 
> “Olives and pineapple! He remembered my favorite,” Bonnie said as the Mikaelsons looked on bemusedly. Caroline sent off a quick text in annoyance that there was no second pizza with edible toppings for her. 
> 
> She didn’t snark out loud though. Bonnie’s eyes had gone soft, which happened much less frequently than it used to before her trip, and Caroline couldn’t even be mad. Gross pizza toppings and the slight loss of face from Damon’s meddling were both well worth Bonnie’s happiness. 
> 
> “Face it, Bonnie, you now have to confront the terrifying ordeal of being known. Grab me a slice, too. Maybe if I pick off the pineapple fast enough I won’t be able to taste them.”
> 
> “It’s just my pizza order, Caroline, not exactly the depths of my soul” Bonnie replied, with a smile was pushing its way onto her lips. She doled out a slice for everyone, even though neither of the Mikaelsons had requested one. Elijah lifted the corner of his slice tentatively, as if unsure how to approach a meal without a fork and knife. Klaus, disturbingly, picked off the olives and left the pineapple, before taking a huge bite. At least he chewed with his mouth closed. 
> 
> “Is anything ever just anything?” Caroline mused before taking her first bite. She winced, because she sounded like an idiot, but also because the pineapple juice had soaked into the cheese while baking. Picking off the chunks hadn’t saved her from their overly sweet flavor. 
> 
> Caroline knew that Damon was ruthlessly cataloguing everything he learned about Bonnie. Her friend claimed his study was just coping with his past anxiety, that he was scared he’d be left without her for a few decades or something, but Caroline got the feeling that his actions had little to do with their past. No, Damon wanted to know everything there was to know about Bonnie Bennett, and those efforts were entirely for his and Bonnie’s future. 
> 
> -
> 
> Expect one (v short) extra epilogue to follow. Thanks so much for reading!


	27. epilogue ii: birds of a feather

_Birds sing after a storm.  
Why shouldn’t people feel as free to delight  
in whatever sunlight remains to them?  
—Rose Kennedy_

Bonnie had climbed a mountain, and now she looked out on everything that lay before her, not as a queen assessing her domain, but like a child on Christmas morning.

Bonnie breathed in deeply before releasing all of the held air in one single forceful whoosh. She wanted to fill her lungs with this air, and her body with this feeling of awe, over and over so that she could carry it with her always. She turned, eager to see Damon’s reaction to the view, but he was eyeing her instead of the vista spread in front of them. His gaze was speculative, and she stifled the smile that immediately teased at her lips. Damon wanted to be serious right now and he wouldn’t appreciate her cooing over his furrowed brow.

“Do you regret it?”

There could be no question of the ‘it’ he was asking after. He’d posed the question a dozen different ways in the past month, though never this directly. Instead, he had lingered over hypothetical what-ifs, timelines where they never met, or where she’d never traveled back in time, or where Elena wasn’t a doppelganger. They all held one thing constant: she would still be alive.

“Are you going to talk about my lost opportunities again? The 2.5 kids I could be having with someone that isn’t you right now? Who was it yesterday? Jeremy Gilbert, right? Of all people, Damon, honestly.” The former witch said with a laugh.

His lip quirked downward and Bonnie internally scolded herself. Hadn’t she just resolved to match his serious mood? But it was hard not to make light of his worries, hard not to smile and laugh, when she felt so happy. She looked out on the valley one more time. Wonder bubbled up in her again, but she tore her gaze away and skipped over to Damon. Standing in front of him, she rested a hand on his chest, feeling the steady beat beneath her palm, letting the warmth seep into her fingers. The pearl ring glinted on her finger, nestled next to the unadorned gold band that marked their marriage. Bonnie cupped his cheek and tilted his head to meet his gaze head on.

“No. I don’t regret it.”

Damon took a step back, though not far enough for her hand to fall from its resting place over his heart, and gestured broadly.

“But looking at this, at Nature, don’t you wish you were still a part of it? That you could still speak its language?” Damon asked. Bonnie knew he was nervous, that he lingered on these questions and hypotheticals because he was scared that she was keeping her unhappiness hidden from him, and that he wanted assurance that she didn’t regret choosing him. She knew that her more-constant presence for the last decade had erased most of his anxiety over the preceding century that he spent waiting for her brief visits, but times of change tended to resurrect old fears. And this was definitely a time of change, for both of them.

“I can’t lie; I do miss magic. I’ve forgotten that I don’t have it a dozen times, at least, in the past week. And I know it will take more time to get used to it, to remember that I should be scared of fire, or that I can no longer track you down with a simple spell and a map. But I still don’t regret it.”

“How can you not?”

“Damon, I lived as a human before I was a witch. I’ve had my world and worldview completely upended before, with zero preparation that time. This was different. I went in to this with my eyes open, knowing what I was giving up and what I was gaining. And I promise you, I’m happy.”

“But—”

“I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you, and you wanted the same. Right?”

Damon nodded.

“Would you have taken the cure, and become a human, for me?”

Damon hesitated, but nodded again.

“I think we both agree that Kol had the right of it though. Shoving it down Silas’s throat was the way to go. But don’t you see that it’s the same? You’re my best friend, my deepest love, my husband,” She said, lingering on the last word, his newest title in her life. “I wouldn’t be parted from you for anything. How can you doubt my choice when you would make the same one?”

“It’s not the same, Bonnie. And if there was a chance for us to be human, for us to live and grow old together—”

“We can still grow old together Damon, just without the wrinkles and arthritis. I wasn’t exactly looking forward to either.”

“And no kids.”

“Damon, I’m not Elena, and you’re not Stefan. We wouldn’t have had kids even if we’d both been born in the same century as regular humans. That was never my dream. But if you’re really into it we can talk about adoption in a few decades. Or maybe more than a few. But I’m sure that if we ever make that choice, Caroline will be waiting in the wings with the contact information of an established and respectable supernatural adoption agency and dibs on godmother status.”

Damon laughed. Bonnie felt the sound vibrate through him.

“And I think we both know that a life without each other isn’t what we want. I’d have gone crazy behind my picket fence with Jeremy Gilbert. I’d probably have killed him myself.”

“Not if I got there first.”

“You’re going to kill my husband and steal me away in the same fantasy world you created to separate us?”

Damon looked sheepish, but Bonnie was smiling again.

“How very you. But it’s too late in this world. You can’t steal me away from my husband. I’m much too in love with him.”

“I’ve heard he’s a dick.”

Bonnie laughed, and refused to deny or agree with his joke.

“Damon I could never regret this. I promised.” The happiness in his eyes finally matched hers. Bonnie wanted to keep it that way.

“Close your eyes. Listen,” she ordered, lifting her hand to cover his eyes when he didn’t immediately follow her direction.

“What? Bonnie—”

“Shh. Listen.” She said. Without their voices, the sounds of their surroundings filled the silence. The stream rushing beneath them, the dozen heartbeats of the animals nearby, the birdcalls from distant trees.

“As a human I would never have heard all this music. Listen to the wind passing through the mountains. It sounds like a giant is blowing their breath across a dozen bottles.” Bonnie lifted her hand from his face, and Damon’s eyes blinked open. “Or look, there!” she said, pointing. “See how the light dances over each individual feather on that hummingbird? And god, can you smell this grass? Who knew grass could smell this good?”

Damon smirked at her antics, but he followed along with her as she pointed out each wonder of the senses. More and more, his eyes shown with the same wonder that sparked within Bonnie. She felt giddy with it, with the valley and the future, both stretched out before them.

“I may no longer be a witch, but Nature isn’t lost to me. We’ve just switched frequencies. And do you know the best part of this frequency?”

“What?”

“I get to share it with you.”

“Sap.”

“You love it.”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Now who’s the sap?”

And then they kissed. Because they were young (relative to other vampires in their friend group) and in love (hopelessly) and at the top of the world (or a mountain at least).

.

.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this is actually it. I've now posted everything I'd planned to write for Bloodstone (plus quite a bit I did not plan to write haha). 
> 
> Thanks for reading; hope you enjoyed this fic, and will like the next one you find even more!


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